Artemis Fowl: The Dawn Breaker
by Jack of the Blades
Summary: Post The Time Paradox. Artemis and Holly have returned to their normal lives, but memories from their latest escapade still haunt them. While they still gather their thoughts, a new enemy surfaces, one with the power to topple all civilization.
1. Chapter 1: Old Friends

Compiled by Prof. J. Argon, Brotherhood of Psychologists

Artemis Fowl: by all accounts a perplexing character. Over the course of his still relatively short life, young Artemis had managed to successfully head his father's criminal empire, plotted to steal from a hitherto unheard of fairy civilization, rescued his father from the Russian Mafia, halted a goblin revolt, defeated criminal figurehead Jon Spyro, saved the fairy world from discovery, traveled to the lost colony of Hybras, and ventured back in time to steal a prized lemur. From himself. Not to mention the myriad awards, honorable mentions, patents, discoveries, thefts, forgeries, kidnappings, and heists the adolescent had managed to pull off over the years as well.

Many psychologists over these years as well have attempted to probe young Artemis's mind, trying to find out just what makes him tick. Impossible. Artemis Fowl's motivations and goals are beyond even the best psychological analysis, defeating the brave attempts of even the most recognized in the field. He is an enigma, first determined to rob the Lower Elements of their gold, making himself the Number One enemy of the People, then convinced to aid said People on various occasions, striking up an unforeseeable friendship with multiple fairies, one of which had been his prisoner for a short time. Amazing.

Our subject has made remarkable progress, regardless, carefully tracked by yours truly and compiled into the following report. It is safe to say that there had never quite been a mind such as Artemis's, perhaps simply because of his staggering intellect, or his clever criminal mentality, or even his obscene affluence among the Mud People. Or maybe it's something more: maybe it's because he had all of these things, and yet he still managed to change, and for the better, as many might say. The following documentation follows the events immediately following the incident involving the lemur and Opal Koboi's latest plot for world domination.

Yes, Artemis Fowl has indeed made much headway. But the best was still to come, when our subject was once again brought into fairy affairs, although many speculate he invited himself in, to work side-by-side with his old prisoner, nemesis, acquaintance, ally, and, eventually, friend, Captain Holly Short of the LEP.

And yet, it is not the events that transpired against the People's newest enemy, but the circumstances surrounding our two protagonists, fairy and human, officer of the law and criminal mastermind. They were to become so much more.

But all in good time. It is widely debated when the case began, ranging from when the first attacks were made, or when Artemis Fowl was called in, but I will do my best to sort things in order.

Chapter 1: Old Friends

Artemis never did like waiting. It didn't suit him. His brain was far too powerful, always working, electricity sparking new ideas, schemes, and plots, and so it is clearly evident why the seventeen-year-old would find no solace in tarrying for long in a single place, without so much as a cell phone to dismantle, or a fairy helmet to dissect.

No, Artemis didn't enjoy waiting at all.

The minutes ticked away on the clock, the second hand lazily flicking through the motions, counting down to 3:45, which, he delighted in knowing, was not actually correct, seeing as how _his_ watch was synchronized exactly with Greenwich Mean Time. But that was beside the point. He sat in a crowded lobby, filled to the seams with bustling high school students, all of them eager to receive their test scores. He sat silently, calmly eyeing the clock, waiting until the Dean's office door would open and their test scores announced.

Artemis casually wiped his Armani dress pants clean as another student pressed by, enthusiastic to join the throng. Artemis could wait. He had time. Of course, he could have simply broken into the office and read his score last night, without so much bother as to pack a lock pick. He'd memorized the door code since the Dean last changed it. And yet such practices were merely out of habit now, Artemis was on the up-and-up. He'd made a promise to himself that there would be no more criminal ventures for him, no matter how petty. Besides, he already knew his test scores, having full confidence in his intellect.

And so he waited, thoughts straying to what Butler was doing, most likely cleaning out a chamber of his Sig Sauer, or polishing the Bentley. Butler was Artemis's bodyguard, a Eurasian manservant trained in martial arts, marksmanship, and Cordon Bleu cooking. Butler had been Artemis's protector since the day of his birth, and for many years a steadfast friend. He'd even managed to befriend several of the fairy people, despite having earned a rather nasty reputation during that unfortunate business at Fowl Manor all those years ago. Commander Kelp probably still had nightmares…

Which reminded him, how was Holly doing, anyway? Last he'd heard, she'd been working double time down at Police Plaza in Haven City, the People's greatest… err… haven from the Mud People: humans. There had been much chaos in recent days: Opal Koboi had escaped justice yet again, having failed in yet another bid for global conquest.

Artemis's mind strayed, turning to thoughts of how he would spend his summer once the semester was over. St. Bartleby's had been rather perplexed (and, quite truthfully, dismayed) to learn of his return, but they simply couldn't turn down a paying customer, and it also helped that his family was well known for its dubious history, albeit one they claimed to have forgone.

As he sat there, now contemplating the sole of his custom-made Italian loafers, Artemis's thoughts turned once more to recent events. Only a few months ago, he had gone off on another adventure with Holly Short, to rather strange ends, he had to admit. Kissing the fairy officer had been… exhilarating, to say the least.

But that was over and done with, he supposed. Still, he found it harder and harder to forget about Holly, despite the fact that she was approximately three feet shorter than him and of a completely different species.

Maybe, just maybe, he could work something out. After all, he was a Fowl, and he was nothing if not inventive. Perhaps…

The dean's office door creaked tentatively open, and the small, mousy man stepped out, hugging the test results to his chest. Immediately they were on him, attacking the poor man and savaging the papers, the dean's squeaky voice fighting to be heard over the melee.

Artemis sighed, rising, slicking back a rebellious patch of raven hair out of his mismatched eyes. Deciding that he could simply access the grades online later, and that the teachers were unlikely to notice his absence on the final day of semester, he simply rose and stalked out of the building.

Pale hand reaching into his coat pocket, he extracted his mobile phone, hitting the number for Butler's speed dial.

"Butler, it's me. Can you have the Bentley here in a few minutes? I'd like to get back to the manor soon. I've got some work to do." He shook himself. Why did he bother introducing himself to Butler? It was a secure line. Only he knew the number. Who else could be calling? He had to get himself straightened out. Perhaps a few days at a Swedish massage.

"Yes, Artemis. I'm on my way now."

Artemis nodded pocketing the phone without another word.

LEP Headquarters, Haven City, Police Plaza, Lower Elements

Holly strolled through the double-doors into Foaly's office, noting the general state of chaos inside. Salad boxes were everywhere, carrots littered the floor, and wires snakes out underfoot, determined to trip any unwary passerby. Foaly himself sat in front of a computer screen, fingers typing frantically as his eyes never strayed from the white glow of the monitor. Foaly was the LEP's technical genius, inventor of multiple devices used in aiding the officers in their various assignments. But in recent days, Foaly had been less interested with patenting more inventions (no mean feat, considering that Koboi still held the record by three dozen), in favor of trying to track down Opal.

It was hard work, his tail seemed to have lost some of its color due to work-related stress, and his eyes had bags under them. Poor Foaly. He'd been slaving away nonstop for several days now, determined not to lose their latest lead on Koboi's whereabouts.

"I swear Holly, we've got her this time!" he whinnied. "Our man in Disneyland Paris says that he was sure he'd spotted her, and now—"

Holly shook her head sadly, auburn hair, slightly longer than the regulation crew cut these days, swaying back and forth. "Sorry Foaly. Wasn't her."

She sighed, settling into one of Foaly's chairs, then cried out, jumping up, realizing to her dismay that her entire backside was covered in salad dressing.

Foaly didn't seem to take notice, having laid his head in his hairy hands, shaking it back and forth. "Three days, Holly. _Three days_ we followed that lead. I was so sure we had her…"

Holly was sympathetic to her quadruped friend, and patted him on the shoulder. Sitting down once more, rather more cautiously this time, she tried to cheer her friend up. "No problem. She'll surface. Here, have a carrot." Holly tossed the orange vegetable to Foaly, but the offering was lost in him. It fell to the ground, Foaly having made no attempt to consume his favorite snack. Most unlike him.

Holly couldn't blame him. Koboi had evaded capture for quite some time now, and every day lost was another that she could find sanctuary, and replenish her powers. And a rogue fairy was dangerous, even if she was just a pixie. All it took was one human to _mesmerize_, and her possibilities were limitless.

She rested her head against the chair's back, shutting her eyes for a brief moment. Foaly wasn't the only one who'd been exhausted in the search for Koboi. She'd been on three Recon missions in the last day. _Three_. But she brought in on herself, volunteering for each one. She knew Koboi, and she couldn't give that pixie an inch. She had to be found _now_.

Just as her eyes began to drift shut, a small portable device buzzed in her pocket, awakening her immediately. Glancing down, she realized it was the communications tool she used to talk to Artemis on the surface. What could the Mud Boy want now?

Her hand lazily flicked the device open, the white light emanating from the screen bathing her pointed, elfin features in a white glow. She shut her eyes, still trying to sleep. "Hmm?" she grumbled, casually opening one eye. The concerned face of Artemis Fowl gazed back.

"Artemis. What's wrong? Someone shoot Butler again? Kidnap your father?"

He chuckled. Good. The Mud Boy was loosening up. "Just thought I'd check in."

"Good. I'm beat."

"What's wrong?" He sounded genuinely concerned. Strange.

Stranger still: she actually enjoyed that. Holly mentally shook herself. She hadn't been the same since that time-traveling stint a few months ago. And neither, she suspected, had Artemis. Things had happened there that she still felt guilty about. Poor kid, he was still an adolescent, when she thought about it. Still a kid.

No. Not really. Artemis had never been a kid, at least not while she'd known him, and his body had finally caught up to his maturity, she supposed. And still, she was of a similar age to him, when she thought about it. It took fairies decades to mature, and they were roughly the same age, when compared by their life spans…

No. She had to stop thinking like that. Something had changed in her in the time stream. Something had changed in them both. That kiss in the gorilla exhibit… She still remembered it. Holly would never admit it to herself, but she occasionally dreamed about it. Then again, she'd been younger, altered by the stream. Artemis was just a friend.

"Nothing, nothing. Just looking for Koboi. She's been giving us the slip again."

"Need me to come down there?"

Again with the concern. "No. No, it's okay. Last thing we need is a stinking Mud Man scaring all the civilians."

Man. Man? Was he a man now? It seemed only yesterday that Artemis had imprisoned her, tormented her, made her believe she'd betrayed the People. He'd been just a selfish little boy.

But he'd come so far since then. They'd come so far…

Noticing Foaly's bemused stare, she quickly averted her eyes, blushing, fearing that he'd figured out more than he let on. Luckily for her, the device was angled away, so Artemis didn't catch it.

Artemis laughed at her comment, oblivious to her embarrassment. Shaking his head, his azure and hazel eyes met with hers as he spoke. "Anyway, Butler and I just got back to Fowl Manor. We'll talk soon, I suppose. I need the company. Anyway, nice talking to you, Holly."

The camera died, and Artemis Fowl's face vanished. Holly sat there for a moment, then rose slowly. She walked out of the office, leaving Foaly to contemplate what he'd just seen.

What he wouldn't give to find out just what happened in the time stream.


	2. Chapter 2: Confessions

Fowl Manor

Artemis sat alone in his study. His eyes traveled over the floor to ceiling shelving, and the multiple Mac PowerBooks that hummed on their respective desks. The Irish youth sighed, rising from his Victorian armchair, and ambled over to the nearest computer.

His fingers danced across the keys, pulling up various windows on his monitor. The white glare of the screen made his face appear ghostly, and his eyes did not blink as he opened his email. Conspicuously empty. For a teenager, this was unusual. Then again, Artemis was hardly the usual boy. All he had were a few messages from Butler when the manservant had taken a brief retreat at the spa in Blackwater.

Artemis chuckled as he recalled what those messages entailed, how Butler had refused to accept a massage, preferring to remain in his room and practice his martial arts. The maid had been quite frightened when she'd walked in on Butler mid-nerve jab. Butler's computer camera had caught that tape. Artemis had insisted that he send it to him.

He contemplated opening the files once again, just for laughs, when a knock came at his door. It was Butler, stepping in silently. He closed the door behind him. "I've checked the grounds. We're secure. I'll be in my room. Need anything?" The body guard's deep blue eyes contemplated his charge, noting his amused expression. "Something wrong?"

"Oh no, no. Not at all." Shaking his head, he waved goodbye to Butler. "See you tomorrow."

The bodyguard departed, and Artemis returned to his screen. He was very surprised to see an enormous carrot disappearing down a dark, watery hole, with much crunching and sucking noises. Utterly bewildered by this strange video feed, the mystery was solved when Foaly leaned back, having repaired his camera. "Hey there, Mud Boy," he managed to say, around a mouthful of vegetables.

Artemis's eyebrows rose marginally, expressing his silent curiosity. His computer was supposed to be secure. Then again, Foaly possessed an affinity for technology that rivaled his own. If anyone could hack into his computer without breaking a sweat, it was Foaly.

"Well, if it isn't Foaly."

"That's right."

"So tell me, Foaly, what have you been up to?"

The centaur whinnied in mild amusement. "As if you didn't know. I found the bead cam you left in my office. Nice try, but the People's secrets stay with me. You've already taken enough."

"Come now, Foaly," he said, reproachful. "You don't think that I would want any more fairy secrets, do you?"

Foaly didn't bother answering that. They both knew they answer. Artemis shrugged. "So sue me. Old habits die hard."

The centaur shook his hairy head. "Amazing. Last I remember the great Artemis Fowl would have done anything to extort us. You've really changed."

Artemis shook his head, sensing something. "Okay Foaly, out with it. I sense a ploy here. You didn't just hack into my computer just to have a pleasant little chat. Holly tells me you've got quite a bit of work on your hands finding Koboi."

Foaly's face darkened. "Actually, Artemis, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Artemis sat forward in his chair, curiosity piqued. "Oh? Koboi?"

"No. Holly. She's been acting strange recently. For the most part she's okay, smart-mouthing everyone, you know the drill. But sometimes she gets… weird. Distant."

Artemis shook his head. He considered himself well-versed in psychology, at least of the human variety, but this wasn't enough. "You've got to give me more than that, Foaly. Can you tell me when? How?"

Foaly squirmed nervously in his seat, surprising, considering he had four hoofed feet, after all. Still, Artemis knew this was why he'd called him. Foaly and Holly were close. Most things could be worked out between them with ease, but something was different here…

"It's you, Fowl. Ever since you two got back from your little trip, she's been acting all funny. Especially when she's talking to you. It came to my attention earlier today, when you two were chatting. You may not have caught it, but she was blushing when you offered your help."

Artemis' heart skipped a beat. Impossible. Holly Short? The elfin Recon officer who'd always been so tough? Things had happened in the time stream, but, and he'd been dwelling on them, he knew, but… Holly?

His mouth opened and closed slightly, like a fish's, and, for once, Artemis Fowl was dumbstruck. Eventually he managed to compose himself, pinching the bridge of his nose to relax. Angling his head down, he closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked back up at Foaly, ready to lie. His brain was already cooking up a convincing story, maybe he'd…

"Save it Fowl," Foaly said, though not unkindly, as Artemis opened his mouth to speak. "My thermal sensors are painting your face completely red. I can tell when you're going to lie. Although I must admit, you're usually very good at it." Sitting forward in his chair now, he asked, point-blank, "What happened?"

Artemis remained at a loss for words. Sitting back in his seat, he muttered, "Things happened, Foaly, that should best be forgotten. For Holly's sake."

Foaly wouldn't have it. "No way, Fowl. She's been getting weirder and weirder. Last mission she strolled right into a crowd in Disneyland Paris. Completely forgot to shield. Lucky for us that fairies aren't conspicuous there. Now, I need you to level with me."

Artemis sighed once, just once. Then he raised his blue eyes to meet Foaly's, black hair framing his face. "She kissed me Foaly. Something happened, I don't know. Call it stress; call it whatever, something happened back there. You satisfied?"

The centaur didn't reply, no sardonic remark escaping his lips, as was his norm. Foaly simply sat back, amazed. "Holly?" he finally managed to say. His eyes traveled to the human teenager he saw through his computer, and his shock doubled. Eventually, he decided to try another word. Maybe a sentence, actually. "You… she… What made her _kiss_ a Mud Boy?"

Artemis arched his eyebrows, returning somewhat to his usual state of being. Affronted, he reminded himself that the general fairy population found humans to be strange, frightening, even repulsive. And here was Artemis Fowl, the most infamous human under the world, saying that Holly Short had kissed him. Still, Artemis was a teenager, and his ego took a bit of a bruising at Foaly's statement, cultural prejudices aside.

The centaur shook his head. "Wow. That's worse than I thought. I… I've got to look into this. I need to talk to her. No, _you_ need to talk to her."

The boy's face had alarm written all over it. "What? No! We put that behind us. We said it was nothing. It _was_ nothing!"

But a nagging little voice in his head couldn't help but mutter, Was it?

Artemis didn't know. Still, Foaly was right. Holly was just as distracted by this as he was, and most likely twice as embarrassed. _She'd_ kissed _him_ after all. And she was the fairy.

And if it bothered her, if she couldn't forget about it… Did she actually _like_ him?

Some part of Artemis, the normal teenage part, felt an enthusiastic whoop in his stomach, a feeling of excitement. But the calm, cool, collective Artemis saw this as it was: a problem.

Nodding in final consent, he said to Foaly. "Okay, Foaly. Tomorrow."

"Negative, Mud Boy. Tonight. Holly's got another Recon job tomorrow. I don't want her getting herself killed."

Artemis understood. "Very well. I'll send her a message. I think I can tactfully word it…"

"Again: no. You've got to see her. Face-to-face. I want this sorted out. She's my best friend, Artemis. I think, despite what she says, she's your friend as well. I've never heard of something like this, I'll admit, but we've got to get this sorted out."

Foaly was beginning to look drained again, tired from his search for Koboi and now this: playing matchmaker for an elf and a Mud Boy! Sighing to himself, he mentioned, "She'll be arriving in an hour or so. I'll make something up."

E1 Shuttleport, Tara

Holly disembarked from the shuttle, stepping into the crowded shuttle port. All around her, the tourists hustled and bustled about, little pixies getting escorted by their parents through the crowd, large gnomes thundering about, making the place smell like a pig sty, young sprite couples making out in a corner. The typical stuff.

As she wound her way through the crowd, she contemplated what Foaly was thinking. He'd sent her up to the surface again, claiming it was an important Recon mission. Yet he was sending her to Fowl Manor. Why? Obviously he was lying about the mission, but what could be his motivation to spirit her away to Fowl's house?

But curiosity overcame her suspicion, and, in truth, some deep subconscious part of her wanted to see Artemis. It was a younger part of her. The part that had kissed him that day. That part that was even now still in…

No. He was a human, she was a fairy. He was a thief, she was a cop. It couldn't work out. And yet she was surprised that she even _wanted_ it to work out. She shuddered. This was Fowl she was thinking about! The same Mud Boy who'd she'd hated for so long! Holly was a soldier, albeit a civilian one, and she detested problems that she couldn't solve with a swing of a buzz baton or a kick of her boot. And yet neither seemed appropriate now to handle Fowl. She was frustrated, even angry with him. And for what? Because she couldn't get him out of her mind.

Holly snagged a pair of Koboi DoubleDex wings from a LEP rack. After all, the design was sound, even if its creator was not. Holly turned on her shielding, and walked out the front door of the fairy fort. Emerging in scenic Ireland, she immediately fired up her wings, and rose to a few hundred feet. Speeding along, savoring the surface air, her eyes looked over the sea, a few miles away. It was a beautiful deep blue today. Where had she seen that color? She was always certain that green had been her favorite, until now. What had made her like it so much?

She knew the answer. At least part of her did. The part that understood that it was exactly the shade and hue of Artemis's human eye. Deep and thoughtful.

The other part of her convinced her that she'd seen the color before on a trip through some European country. That was it. Maybe Italy.

While this part of Holly deluded herself into believing that, she flew close to Fowl Manor. Losing altitude, she gracefully alighted on the driveway, past the gates. Confused, she remembered Foaly's instructions. Go inside, talk to Mud Boy. But _why_?

Feeling distinctly awkward, she approached Fowl Manor, finding the door wide open. Apparently Fowl was expecting her, because she didn't double over puking when she crossed the threshold. Entering the main foray, her eyes took in the usual somber eighteenth-century decorations. She noted with a degree of fondness the suit of armor Butler had donned to fight the troll. She'd never forget that until the day she died.

Walking along, she ascended the stairs, light feed barely making a sound on the Tunisian rug. Once she had reached the top, she noticed the only open door down a hallway to her left. A soft, warm glow emanated from there. A fire.

Holly approached, cautiously. She still couldn't shake the old memories of this place. Maybe she never would. Entering the room slowly, her chestnut hand pushed back the door, to reveal Artemis sitting in a winged armchair before a roaring fire. He was garbed in a maroon bathrobe, and he rested his head on a hand, apparently asleep.

She felt distinctly embarrassed as she approached Fowl. But a funny feeling stirred in her chest, sort of fluttery and light. That embarrassed her all the more. What if Fowl sensed it? She shook her head. Maybe that small part of her was still—

He awoke, or seemed to at least, assuming that he'd been sleeping at all. Artemis's sapphire eyes gazed about, oblivious to her presence. Oh gods, she noticed the blue one. It was the same color as the ocean. Exactly.

She shimmered into the visible spectrum, and some small part of her delighted to see him smile.

"Holly, how nice of you to drop by." The Mud Boy said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Holly nodded curtly, determined to smother these strange feelings. "Fowl. Foaly says you had some information for me?"  
Artemis glanced about, seemingly fearful of something or other. Holly couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yes, Holly. I do have something to tell you." He rose to his significantly greater height, and began pacing about. "Holly," he began, but he couldn't find any words.

Curious, she asked, "What's going on, Artemis?"

He sighed, and seemed to compose himself. "Holly, Foaly's figured it out."

She felt her heart-rate quicken. Foaly knew what? She didn't have that many secrets, and one of the few she did she prayed no one but Fowl knew.

"He knows what happened to us."

"D'Arvit," she swore under her breath.

For a moment they both stood there, seemingly frozen in time. Eventually, Artemis plucked up the courage to speak. "Holly, what _did_ happen to us?"

It was a question that had been plaguing her for the last few months. Apparently, he'd been troubled, too. "I don't know, Artemis. Things changed. I was younger. The time stream must've addled our brains, or something."

But they both knew it was more than that. If her theory was true, then the effects should have ended upon their return to the present. They hadn't.

Artemis leveled those sea-blue eyes at her hazel ones, and smiled at her. "Is it possible that…?" His words trailed off.

That part of her jumped with excitement. "Yes?" she baited.

His words increased in strength and passion, and he faced her, kneeling at her height, grabbing her by the shoulders. For some reason, she didn't resist his touch. His eyes were alight with excitement. His courage had returned. "Holly, I—"

Suddenly, every alarm in the building burst to life.


	3. Chapter 3: Going to Ground

**Fowl Manor**

Butler exploded into the room, sending papers flying in his wake. He brandished his Sig Sauer with expert skill, and quickly assessed the situation. Artemis was okay, thank God. And… Captain Short was with him?

"Captain," he nodded politely, then immediately turned to Artemis. "We've got a problem. I'm picking up several targets inbound. Looks like infantry. At least thirty men." His soldier's sense had taken over. He was ready to defend Master Artemis, or die trying.

Artemis instantly forgot what he'd been about to say to Holly, rising up from where he kneeled. "We've got to get out of here. Whatever they are, they're probably hostile. I still have enemies."

Butler nodded.

Artemis faced Holly again, but this time without the romantic undertones. "Captain," he inquired, all business, "Can you get us out of here with your Moonbelt? The manor is built to withstand attacks, but from what Butler tells us, we're facing a small army."

Foaly's voice crackled to life in Holly's ear. "We've got more problems. The cameras are picking up a few dozen shielded fairies. They're moving in a similar attack pattern. We've got rogues and Mud Men, moving in fast. I'll try to jam their communications…"

As he worked, Holly quickly extricated her Moonbelt, clipping it onto Artemis and Butler's belts. Making for a window, she blew it away with a concentrated blast from her Neutrino. Artemis couldn't help but wince. The stained glass artwork had been priceless.

Holly immediately catapulted through the window, Artemis and Butler dangling behind her like streamers in the wind. Normally they would have taken time to wrap a layer of Stealth Foil to hide them, but since fairies appeared to be working with Mud Men now, it was hardly necessary. The other Fowls were away on a school trip for Artemis's siblings, so they didn't have to worry about their protection.

She took to the skies, making directly for the shuttle port, where she knew she'd be safe. Foaly's voice came back. "D'Arvit!" he swore. "Someone's scrambling my system. I can't do anything to help, Holly. You're on your own."

Just to emphasize this, a fairy hit squadron materialized a few hundred feet back, flying in a rigid V formation. They didn't bother with negotiations. Neutrino lasers blasted through the air, one of them coming close enough to nail Artemis. The boy screamed in pain as his leg began bleeding profusely, but Holly had no time to slow down and assist him. They had to make it in time, or they were _all_ dead.

She heard shots returned as Butler leveled his Sig Sauer and squeezed off a few rounds. A valiant attempt, but those fairies were too far away. Holly concentrated on cranking up the DoubleDex's speed to twice the recommended limit. In a few minutes they'd burn out.

Butler continued firing, amazingly managing to hit one of his targets. A fairy fell from the formation, plummeting to earth before finally crashing and burning on the Irish countryside. Two of his comrades broke off to assist and, if need be, dispose of the body.

Holly's heart pounded in her ears, accompanied by Foaly's good-natured attempts at backseat driving. Good-natured, but irritating. They kept flying, until finally her helmet registered the fairy fort at two hundred yards. They were going to make it.

Several more blasts shot by, one clipping the DoubleDex in the wing. Holly shook violently, dropping a few dozen feet, but managed to regain control. Surprisingly, the wing chassis was still mostly intact. She had to hand it to that pixie, these things worked great.

She approached the fort, and just as the hit squad was about to overcome her, Holly noticed, much to her relief, several figures in LEP uniforms take off from the ground below. Among them her helmet tagged Commander Kelp. Good old Trub. He'd see them through.

Diving straight down, Holly felt her skin ripple as the G-forces tried to turn her inside out. Just as she was about to impact, she pulled up, retracting the Moonbelt so as not to dash her passengers against the earth. Still, they stumbled, and rolled forward. Without a word, Holly and Butler were on their feet, dodging laser bursts as they bolted for the fort, Butler pausing to heft Artemis like a sack of potatoes.

The potatoes in question took issue with being handled so roughly, but Artemis realized the gravity of the situation, and swallowed his pride. They made a mad dash for the port's double doors, a group of interested civilians crowding the way. Holly loosed a few Neutrino rounds over their heads to get them to disperse. Above, Trouble and his team held back the squad, but the enemy's priority was obvious: them. Often one of the fairies would ignore an LEP man, and take a dive straight for the grounded trio. Someone wanted them dead.

But it was too late. With a final leap, Holly landed in the lobby, turning just to see Butler do the same. Above, Trouble and his squad continued to fight the enemy, but, at some unheard command, they retreated immediately. Trouble's people made no move to pursue. Something was going on.

Holly's attention returned to Artemis when she realized he was still bleeding heavily. Butler had set his charge down gently, and was currently occupied by scaring away any passerby who got too curious.

She knelt by Artemis, quickly placing her hands on his injured calf. The Armani pants' leg was ruined, tattered beyond repair. She was glad to say that Artemis was otherwise. Muttering, "Heal," she nodded with satisfaction as the blue sparks of magic shot down her fingers, traveling into Artemis's open wound. Within moments, he was healed.

As he made to rise, he set him back. "Stay down, Mud Boy. You shouldn't stretch that calf just yet."

Artemis was mildly frustrated by this, but occupied his attention by glancing up as Kelp and his team returned. They were intact, for the most part, a corporal having taken a shot to the shoulder. But nothing a pinch of magic wouldn't fix. The officer in question hobbled over to a nearby warlock.

Then Holly realized: Why were there so many LEP operatives up here? It was far too lucky that Trouble had been on hand to deal with the enemy.

"Commander," she voiced, approaching Kelp, but he raised a hand to silence her.

"Relax, Holly. We're fine." His visor was set to reflect as he spoke. "Foaly had us up here handling a Koboi lead. The rest of my boys were heading back to Haven. Then the call came in."

Holly nodded. It made sense. And she was grateful for Trouble's help. If he hadn't interfered, they would have been so much smoldering ash by now.

Artemis rose slowly, flexing his leg experimentally. Shaking his head, he stated simply, "Amazing. I never get over the restorative properties of magic. Not even any tendon damage." He turned to face Holly and Kelp. "Can you tell us anything about what just happened, Commander?"

Kelp shook his head. "Sorry, Fowl, but I'm not cleared to reveal anything to a Mud Man."

Holly arched an eyebrow critically, her natural temper flaring. "What do you mean? We were just attacked, and you expect us to sit by and wait for an explanation?" Holly's mind was reeling. Who could have been behind that attack? They'd been ambushed before: in the Arctic with Commander Root when a goblin hit squad had come in. But she knew the answer. She knew who was behind it. The same pixie who was always behind it.

***

Opal giggled delightedly. She'd been doing that more and more recently. Until now there hadn't been much to laugh about, not since her plan with the lemur had failed, but now things were going _perfectly_. She almost purred with contentment.

The diminutive pixie sat at a rounded conference table, to symbolize the equality of those assembled, although she'd forced her new compatriots to give her the largest and most ridiculously lavish of the chairs, defeating the purpose of the table. She toyed with a lock of dark hair, her deep brown eyes taking in the others who sat around the table. But their faces were all ugly and repulsive, nothing like her own stunning beauty.

The room's other occupants stared at her, waiting. They all had their own needs to serve Opal, and she planned to use them to the fullest of their abilities. After all, her funds had been rather depleted by her trip to the future, leaving behind all of her possessions. Much to Opal's chagrin, her entire future estate had been frozen by the LEP, seeing as her future self had managed to foul things up with a failed goblin coup.

Still, no matter. Her plans required an exorbitant amount of money, and there was a certain benefactor who was more than willing to cough it up. A certain Mafia kingpin, to be precise.

Britva sat across the table, his old, wrinkled face grim with determination. From what Opal had gathered, Fowl and Short had managed to double-cross the kingpin, leaving him without his hostage and the ransom money. Not only that, but he was utterly humiliated as well. Having a thirteen-year-old kid show you up didn't exactly help with a Mafia man's reputation.

But it just got better. Opal had done some digging, and had discovered, much to her delight, that Fowl and Short had made quite a few enemies for themselves besides the Russian. Jon Spiro, Billy Kong, and Doctor Damon Kronski to be precise. The exinctionist had failed Opal in the past, but this was a whole different crunchball game.

Shortly after her escape, Opal had devised a brilliant plan: contact all of Fowl's old enemies, and bring them together. Sure, it was a touch cliché, with the whole, "Council of Evil," idea, but Opal liked to stick to the basics now. Extravagant plans tended to fall around her ears. At least, that's what she had learned when she'd reviewed her future self's many failed schemes.

Obviously, it had been rather difficult at first to sway the humans, several of which had tried to kill her, thinking her to be some sort of miniature assassin, but in time, and with a little help from the _mesmer_, she'd swayed them all. The current Opal, or, as she liked to think of her, "Opal 2.0," had attempted to bring humans into indirect contact with the fairies. That hadn't worked. She'd decided to do it directly this time. It was simplicity itself to introduce a fairy to the Mud Men. It was done. Their secret was blown. At the very least, thirty Mud Men knew of the existence of fairies now, the men before her, and their own personal elite.

Spiro and Kronski had managed to hold onto their respective fortunes, Spiro having hid away several hundred million dollars in an illegal safe-deposit box in Tokyo. All was ready. Opal had the resources, and all of her backers were hungry for revenge.

Kong was just an added bonus. A disgruntled hit man with a score to settle with the Irish youth. Perfect.

Spiro tapped a white dress shoe on the floor of the conference room. His tiny, angry eyes shifting about nervously. The man had suffered a terrible breakdown after Fowl's defeat of him. The loss of his company, most of his fortune, and his dignity had been too much to bear. He'd snapped. Paranoid and angry, Spiro made an excellent supplier for her plan. He raised a fat, jeweled hand, and waved it around, bracelets clinking as he spoke. "Koboi," he said, his lack of patience clear, "You've brought us all here. What happened?"

Kronski nodded in agreement. Opal had contacted him as well, promising him his own personal colony of endangered animals to wipe out once their plan came to fruition. "Yes. I was wondering if our hit-team managed to take out Ah-temis."

Britva was quiet, composed, as any self-respecting Mafia man would be. Still, at this he spoke. "Quiet, you fools," he spat in a thick Russian accent. "I sent in my best men, plus the mercenaries Spiro hired. They can't have failed us. Fowl is just a boy, and that Butler may be strong, be even he can't face an army."

Opal cleared her throat loudly to be heard. To the Mud Men it seemed like a mouse had squeaked. "The attack failed. My fairies pursued them, but they made it to a secured fairy fort before they could finish the job."

Kong swore, rising and overturning his chair as he did so. A gleam of madness shone in his eyes. Kong was useful, but he was deranged. What was more, he hated fairies. When Opal thought about it, it didn't sound smart to be consorting with madmen, like the lot of them, but Opal needed funds. Besides, she had her own small army of paid fairy mercenaries to protect her.

"Calm yourself, Kong, or I'll have one of my men punish you."

Kong's chest heaved as he spoke. "You don't understand, fairy. Now that they're away, they'll be after us! They'll figure it out!" He trailed off into a long and intricate string of Taiwanese curses, until he was calm. Sitting down, he waited for Opal's response.

Arching a fine eyebrow, Opal made a mental note to watch Kong closely. Of all these Mud Men, he was the loosest cannon of the lot.

"Gentlemen, I contacted you with the plan of toppling the fairy civilization. It is a simple plan, and my incredibly large brain capacity is the only one in the world capable of conceiving it. We are quite safe. All is going well, according to this plan. I didn't intend for Short and Fowl to die today. We need them alive, after all. When we first spoke, all of you, you didn't believe in fairies. Except for you Kong, but your knowledge of the People is horribly inaccurate. Demons. Honestly." She took a quick glance at herself in a compact mirror, trying to imagine herself with horns and scales. No. Absolutely not. She made another note to punish Kong accordingly when the time came. Comparing her to a demon, the nerve!

"Anyway, you all needed some convincing, but with your assistance we've managed to spring several of my fairy cohorts from prison," she gestured at the mercenaries that flanked the door, "As well as hire several more of your Mud Men to assist. The attack was a ruse. We need Fowl gone. Once he's off the surface, and safe in Haven, we'll be free to move in on his house, as my people already are. We'll take hostages, and the plan will be in motion." She clapped her little hands delightedly. What a decidedly delicious plan.

Composing herself, she gestured at the assembled. "You are dismissed." It was a dangerous move. These were powerful men, many of them more than off their rockers, and all of them used to respect. But she had to reinforce the idea now that they weren't in charge. She was in charge.

With some grumbling, they slowly filed out. They would go to their rooms or to their own men, all of whom were stationed in this… place. Opal giggled. What a perfect plan. Of course, it wasn't the simple scheme she'd sold to the Mud Men. No. Much more devious.

Once she was alone, she raised a remove, and clicked a button. A wide screen plasma television flashed to life. On it was the face of her partner.

Rather, the mask. He was funny that way. No faces. No names. His name, or rather, what he chose for her to call him, was Roth. He simply contacted Opal while she'd still been wandering in fear of the LEP, gave her some clothes and money, as well as an update on what Fowl and Short had done in the past few years. He had presented her with a plan. A brilliant plan. Still, that report had told her that Opal Version 2.0 had been duped by a Briar Cudgeon. She didn't intend to fall for a similar ploy.

The mask was a plain white wooden piece, with oval eye-holes that housed bright, amber eyes, streaked with red. There was no mouthpiece. The voice emanated from behind the mask. Any part of his head was concealed beneath a crimson hood.

"It is in motion?"

Opal nodded, helping herself to a truffle that she had procured from a box. "Yes. The Mud Men are supplying the money, and the help. With any luck, we'll be ready in a month."

The masked man nodded. His deep, frightening voice booming across the room. "Excellent. The machine is in construction. Soon all the humans will be _dead_." He laughed, and the sound thrilled Opal. Here was a mind she could appreciate. Twisted and evil, and guided by the spark of genius.

Roth leaned back in his chair, red-flecked eyes glancing about. "This is genius, Opal. Genius. The Mud Men were hard to convince, but now they're completely in on it! With them on our side, we cannot lose. And Fowl makes it so easy! They all want him _dead_! Isn't that marvelous, my little pixie? But I'm afraid they won't get the satisfaction. I'm reserving it for myself." He laughed, and the high, cold sound carried throughout the room, made lifelike by the high-quality fairy speakers it came over.

Opal couldn't suppress a shiver. She wouldn't want to be in Fowl's shoes.


	4. Chapter 4: Diggums and Day

**LEP** **Shuttle en route to Haven**

Artemis sat in relative comfort as the shuttle ferried him and his companions down to Haven City. He sighed in relaxation as the form-fitting cushions of the seat supported his back, which had taken quite a shaking after their little escapade. He'd have to spend a few hours with the chiropractor to get that one sorted out. Still, despite his outward appearance of comfort, his mind was reeling. This was bad. Humans and fairies, working together? And to besiege Fowl Manor, no less!

Holly was fuming when she took her seat. The pilot had politely declined to allow her to pilot the vehicle. Holly wasn't feeling particularly charitable right then, and she muttered to herself, "You can go stick your _ma'am_ right up your—"

She sighed. Hotshot pilots. Still, she knew she'd been like that, full of bravado and such, and she still was. But in the years during their absence in Limbo, Holly found that a new generation of LEP had been trained. She'd always been the youngest. That was still taking some getting used to.

Shaking her head, she instead focused her attention on her two best human friends. Her only human friends. Butler sat in a fairy seat designed for a being a fifth of his size, but made a brave attempt at ignoring the embarrassment. The bodyguard simply removed his trusty Sig Sauer from his shoulder holster, checking to see that it was still loaded for the fifth time this flight.

Artemis sat in silence, eyes shut tight, forehead creased with worry lines. It was times like this that Holly really pitied Artemis. He never got to be a kid. He never wanted to.

The Irish youth thought furiously, attempting to think up a reason as to why Fowl Manor had been attacked. He had enemies, doubtless, both fairy and human, but to be attacked by _both_? This was very bad.

Foaly's voice spoke in Holly's ear. "Haven's going to be locked down soon. We're waiting for clearance from the council."

"Have you got any idea what's going on?"

The centaur shook his head, speaking into the microphone. "Not a clue. It's as mysterious as the meatloaf Caballine makes me for dinner sometimes. The Council says that if we've got rogue fairies working with humans, we've been exposed. At least partially. I'm lucky to be getting this signal through."

Holly shook her head. Why did this always happen to them? Her eyes glanced in Artemis's direction, and her expression softened slightly. She'd just remembered: he'd been about to tell her something at Fowl Manor. She could guess what it was, but they'd been interrupted. Now the moment was gone. Part of her was devastated, another part angry that she'd let her emotions get so mixed up.

Then she remembered something Artemis _had_ told her. Foaly knew. Oh, she'd wring that centaur's neck…

Sealing her helmet so that they couldn't be overheard, she said to Foaly, and none too kindly, "Artemis tells me you've figured us out."

She couldn't see him, but Holly could just picture the blood draining from his face. Her suspicions were confirmed when she picked up the sound of Foaly gagging on his carrot juice.

After a moment, he spoke. "Ah. I see Artemis told you. Holly—"

"Foaly, can't you just butt out?"

"Holly," his voice quickly lost all apologetic tones. He was concerned for her. "He's a Mud Boy. Your seventy years older than him. It's not healthy!"  
"He's a Mud Man now, and his name is Artemis," she snapped. "And I'm not exactly ancient, Foaly! I'm still in my prime, for Frond's sake! And another thing—"

"Listen to yourself, Holly!" Foaly warned. "You're trying to justify it!" He calmed down slightly, asking, "I don't understand, Holly. What happened to you two?"

For the first time, Holly actually sat back and gave it some thought. Butler, always the soldier, noted the slight change in her body language, signifying defeat. "I don't know, Foaly. There's just something about him. I'm just…" Then she remembered. What Artemis had said. Well, almost said. Confidence welled up inside her. This was the first step. She'd say it out loud. Albeit aloud inside a sealed helmet speaking only to Foaly, but it was a start.

"I love him, Foaly."

Foaly's sigh was a hiss of static over her earpiece. "I never thought I'd see the day." For a moment he was silent, stoic and reserved. Very un-Foalylike. Then his personality took over, and he couldn't resist muttering, just loud enough for Holly to hear, "Holly and the Mud Boy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N—"

"FOALY!"

As Holly had her little anger attack, Butler discreetly nodded to Artemis. "So, tell me, any ideas as to what we're doing next?"

Artemis was slightly distracted by the spectacle of Holly obviously screaming into her helmet, arms waiving about wildly. She made no attempt to hide her anger. After a moment he tore his eyes away, answering, "I don't know, Butler. We're up against a powerful enemy, I can guess that much. And I get the feeling the LEP won't have a clue what to do." He flipped open a communicator.

"Still," he said, hitting speed dial on the Gnommish keys, "I have a few contacts that are bound to help."

**Haven City, Lower Elements**

The contact in question was currently sitting in an inconspicuous vehicle, idling just off the entry ramp onto the freeway. The Haven 435 was a veritable zoo today, what with the crunchball tournaments just having finished, and all of those hyped-up gnomes were blocking up the roads in their desperate bids to return home only to watch another match on television. Mulch sighed to himself, stripping the last hunk of meat from a sim-chicken leg, taking meticulous care to remove any excess flesh, before promptly tossing the rest of the bone down his gullet as well.

He'd been waiting in his car for a while now, while his newest partner, Doodah Day, had been off gathering some information on their latest target. It seemed that a sprite bodybuilder had been playing around with certain muscle-enhancing drugs, which were illegal in Haven. The steroid-munching sprite had to be brought in, and Diggums and Day had to track him down.

Diggums and Day. Mulch liked the sound of that. When Holly had been his partner, back before she'd rejoined the LEP, Mulch's name had been second. What with Doodah as his new partner, Mulch felt that seniority reigned supreme.

Doodah had disagreed. "You can't do that," he'd said in his squeaky pixie voice. "Day comes before Diggums, even the humans' alphabet says that!"

Mulch had promptly dismissed any dissent over their name with a quick flash of his enormous tombstone teeth. Of course, he wouldn't actually take a bite out of the pixie. He'd grown quite fond of him over the years since their business started up.

The door opened with a pneumatic hiss, and Doodah quickly slipped in, occupying the driver's seat. The little pixie didn't bother with a systems check, as Holly would have done, simply throwing the car into third gear and tearing off down the ramp.

Mulch nearly lost his lunch right there. Doodah wore a look of urgency, his little pixie features distorted by a grim scowl of determination.

"We're got 'em," he managed to grunt as he drove, before swearing loudly as they were promptly trapped in the traffic. Their previous speed of seventy miles an hour had been reduced to three.

Mulch took advantage of this opportunity to have a word with his partner. "So, what do we have?"

The pixie's hands gripped the wheel with a frightening ferocity, and the angry glare sent another driver's way would have scared a troll. "I spotted our man getting on the freeway just before we did. He'd headed north. Probably to his gym."

Mulch nodded, stroking his beard, which, in actuality, was an intricate matrix of living antennae, which would send out gentle pulses, like sonar, and report back to Mulch when he was digging. Quite handy. Mulch was a dwarf, and his species possessed innumerable useful traits in the criminal business. But since he'd joined the side of the law, Mulch had used these talents to other ends.

And so they continued on at their painful speed, eventually turning off when they spotted the sprite's vehicle exit the freeway. They shadowed him for several miles, eventually arriving at a nondescript gymnasium.

The sprite stepped out of his car, and Mulch noted his incredible physique. This one would be tough to take in. His wings in comparison to his body were laughable, tiny and pathetic looking. Still, Mulch felt it wouldn't be wise to laugh at this particular sprite.

The suspect slammed his car door with enough force to make even Mulch wince at the ominous cracking sound, and then proceeded down a back alley. Perfect. No civilians, no problem.

Mulch stepped out of the car, motioning for Doodah to follow. They entered the shadowy alley, noticing the enormous sprite attempting to jam a key into a door as if he hated it. Mulch heard a snap, then a tinkling sound as the key smashed apart, and heard the sprite swear under his breath, taking another key of its ring. Apparently this happened to him often.

Doodah came up slowly behind the sprite, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He had to stand on the tips of his pixie toes to do so. The sprite turned about, green skin rippling with toned muscle. "Yeah? What do you want?"

Doodah cleared his throat, patting the sprite genially on the shoulder. "Hello, good sir. I'm a tourist. I seem to be lost, could you help me?" He threw in the old wide-eyed, wobbly lip bit for good measure.

The sprite was five times Doodah's size, easily, but the pixie made a critical mistake in assuming size was associated with the approximate intelligence of a stinkworm. It wasn't.

"You ain't no tourist, Doodah Day. You're an investigator, and you've been tailing me for three days."

Doodah swallowed nervously. Time for a different approach. Acting on quick pixie reflexes, he drew his arm back, and let his tiny fist fly. A valiant attempt, but even though his reflexes were fast, the force of his punch was not unlike that of a swear toad hitting a troll.

The sprite was on him in a second, powerful muscled arms bearing down in his little pixie neck.

Mulch would have sworn if he'd had the time. Being twenty feet away from where the sprite strangled his partner, Mulch was helpless to proceed. Well, almost helpless. He had one option left to him.

Dwarves have various talents. Being tunnel-diggers, dwarves were capable of rapidly ingesting large amounts of clay and then forcibly… ejecting it out the other end. Beautiful. A good dwarf digger could do this in seconds. Mulch was better than good. He was the best.

"Get. Him. Offa. Me," Doodah managed to croak as the sprite proceeded to crush him, and Mulch realized that even his prodigious excavating abilities wouldn't get him to Doodah's side in time.

The… waste produced by dwarf activities must be quickly ejected in order to make room for more. Dwarf gas was extremely potent allowing the excess matter to be quickly blasted away. This force could take the head off a fully grown Mud Man, as Butler had almost found out once.

Mulch didn't intend anything so lethal, but still, he had to get that sprite off his partner. Quickly dropping to his knees, he spun about, unbuttoning his bum-flap as he did so. Mulch took quick aim, as only a practiced tunneler could, and summoned forth the formidable force at his disposal. For a moment he held the powerful blast in, waiting for the pressure to build, then, just when he thought that Doodah might breath his last, Mulch groaned loudly and let it fly.

A whirlwind of destruction tore forth, making for the duo. The force behind the blast was enough to knock a bull troll onto his haunches. It would most likely give the pumped up sprite more than just pause.

Mulch's aim was true. Without hitting Doodah, the discharge hit the sprite dead-on, sending him pirouetting through the air, before finally crashing to the ground. The dwarf dashed forward, helping his partner off the ground. No need to worry about the sprite for a few moments. The fall most likely had knocked him unconscious, and Mulch hoped so. If the sprite was still around to smell what he'd been hit with, they wouldn't have been able to get him off the pavement for at least a few hours.

Doodah gasped for breath, his little pixie neck miraculously intact in spite of the beating it had taken. The pixie didn't seem unduly worried about the attempted murder, however, rather focusing his attention on Mulch.

"Don't ever, _ever_, do that again, you hear me?"

Mulch huffed, slightly offended. Sure his… discharge had been dangerously close to Doodah himself, and maybe he'd lost an eyebrow or two from the wake of it, but all-in-all Mulch felt he'd done a pretty good job.

He'd just been drawing breath to make one of his own disparaging comments, when a communicator in his pocket vibrated, playing the tune to the _Riverbend Song_. His hairy dwarf hand darted into his trousers, picking off the residue of his last snack from the device. When it was relatively clean, and the last of the vole curry scraped off the screen, he accepted the call.

He swore at the sight of the pale teenager's face that greeted him.

"Oh no! Not again! I'm done with that stuff, I told you! If I ever want to die in the line of duty, I'll get a job at Spud's Spud Emporium. Forget it!" Even as he spoke, blast walls lowered all around, klaxons blaring. Mulch shook his head. Never a moment's peace. "I'm assuming we've got to save the world again?"

Artemis Fowl smiled slightly, exposing his pristine white teeth. "How'd you guess?"


	5. Chapter 5: Getting Used To Things

Haven City, Police Plaza, LEP Building, Operations Booth

Holly sealed the door behind them as they entered the booth, checking to make sure that the soundproofing was operating. Old habits. Foaly's technology was beyond flaw these days. Another little thing she'd missed on her trip to Limbo.

The booth remained in a state of controlled chaos, Foaly having left papers everywhere, even on the computers. Only the ones of immediate importance had been excavated from their respective mounds of junk.

Foaly's dark brown eyes were wide and worried, plastered to the screen in front of him. His hands typed lightning-fast on his keyboard. Normally Foaly would have used his innovative new V-board, but in times of stress he liked to resort to the outdated model. It was a comfort thing.

Mulch and Doodah, who both had been cleared with relative ease to get into the building, sat side-by-side at a conference table hastily set up for them by a group of eager apprentices to Foaly. Anything to get in the boss's good books. They'd even supplied them with small bowls of vole curry, which Mulch had taken to wolfing down at an alarming pace. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his beard relatively clean.

Artemis took a single sniff of a spoonful of the stuff, and quickly handed it over to Mulch, face slightly green. The Mud Boy and his bodyguard had been a different matter than Mulch. From the shuttle, the LEP had been forced to shunt them into a police vehicle, while avoiding any passerby. No need to alarm the citizens.

After they had been snuck in, Artemis had immediately begun conversing with Foaly, while the others had made themselves comfortable. Now he sat as well, waiting for Holly to take a seat.

The elf captain sat in an office chair built for a centaur, and was understandably uncomfortable. Still, she didn't have it as bad as Butler did. They'd brought in a low, reinforced table for him to sit on.

"I swear," Butler muttered, gazing forlornly at the inviting cushions of their seats, "Haven had better start making bigger chairs, or so help me…"

Commander Kelp burst into the room. Or rather, he tried to, but in his haste had assumed the doors had been open. They weren't. With a great bang, the Commander walked straight into the door, falling back. Rising, he quickly keyed in his override code, striding into the room as he rubbed his sore nose.

"Okay, Foaly. What do we have?"

The centaur wrenched his eyes away from his display, facing the Commander. "Not much. Our teams attempted to make a few arrests, but the enemy vacated the premises quickly. One of their number lagged behind. Apparently they remote-destructed his suit so he wouldn't be captured."

Holly grimaced. Not the best way to go. Ark Sool had, in his brief time as Commander, attempted to have her vaporized in a similar fashion. She still had a score to settle with that gnome.

Artemis shook his head, shutting his mismatched eyes in frustration. "This won't do. What about the humans? Surely you managed to tag a few of them?"

Foaly scratched his hairy chest as he spoke. "We did. They're not the problem. I know exactly where they are: Fowl Manor."

Artemis snarled in anger. "So why don't you _apprehend_ them, Foaly?"

Kelp took a quick glance at Artemis. "No need to discipline my people, Fowl. That's my job. You have any idea how long they'll stick me in the Deeps for letting you and your gorilla down here? The only reason you're here, is that Captain Short demanded it for your safety."

Butler took issue with being referred to as a gorilla, but Artemis caught the second bit. Holly was worried about him? For some reason that made his day.

"That's not the issue. You've got humans working with fairies, so that means your secret has been blown. But since we're not seeing smiling pictures of some sprite on those news channels," he gestured briefly toward a television that was running a human news network, "I'd say not completely. What you need is to figure out how many humans are aware, and who's been informing them. This was no accidental discovery, Commander. One of your kind gave you up."

Kelp shook his head, answering, "I've already thought about it, Fowl. That's why we haven't moved in on your house. We can enter and leave whenever we feel like, seeing as how Frond's curse has been lifted, but we want the Mud Men to tell us what they're doing. We're monitoring their calls, and I was going to ask Foaly here how that's turning out."

Foaly brought up a surveillance program. It monitored Fowl Manor's phone lines, video feeds, and computer networks. Apparently Foaly had been busy.

Artemis took a quick glance at the screen. "Updated since last month, have you?"

Foaly swore under his breath. "D'Arvit, Fowl. I thought I'd escaped your sensors this time. Anyway," Foaly said, seeing the impatience in the Commander's eyes, "We've picked up on a few phone calls. They tried to mask their signal, but it wasn't that effective. I traced the recipient to somewhere within this location." A glowing red triangle appeared over a map of southern Germany. "Munich," Foaly said, and you could almost see his head swelling with pride.

Artemis scowled, thin manicured fingers vaguely tracing the highlighted city. "Tell me, what stopped you from completing the trace?"

Here Foaly's smile was wiped from his face. He pouted, answering, "Something garbled my signal. Someone's been using a fairy scrambler."

A silence fell over the room, save for the sound of Mulch finishing off the last bowl of curry. Slurping sounds rung in everyone's ears.

Finally, Holly broke the silence. Her face was still slightly red after Trouble had let slip her request. She'd been hoping he'd have taken it in confidence. She chanced a glance at Artemis, in what she thought would be a covert manner, but the human caught her stare, a slightly triumphant look on his face.

_That Mud Boy! He knows. D'Arvit._

"Well, the humans haven't left Fowl Manor, right, Foaly?"

The centaur nodded, gratified that they had gotten off the subject of his equipment's failure. "Affirmative. All of them. From what my sensors picked up, they're saying mission accomplished. Apparently you weren't the target, Fowl."

Artemis's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Lovely. Now, can you tell me what _else_ they said?"

Foaly whinnied, annoyed that Artemis kept pushing him so. "Fine. Fine. Keep your hair on, Mud Boy." He tapped a few more keys, bringing up an audio file. Foaly pressed PLAY, and a small wavelength interpreter spiked on the screen's bottom, rising and falling in rhythm with the conversation.

_"And you've secured the manor?"_ asked a voice like ice.

_"Roger. We're setting up a perimeter defense. We only need five men to hold the place. How many do you want us to send?"_

A burst of static, much to Foaly's embarrassment, cut off most of the reply.

_"…and bring in the big guns. We need more gold, apparently. Loot the manor, and get me those men. Be in Munich in a week's time. We'll be waiting."_

The call ended. Mulch was first to speak, seeing as he had scraped the last of the bowls clean. Deceptively clean, in fact. Trouble made a mental note to have the cleaning pixies put that one through a few extra wash cycles. "Okay, so, the Mud Men want gold. Lots of it: if Arty's house over there can't supply enough. Looks like they're after more. My guess is, they're going to rob someplace. It's what I'd do."

They all nodded in agreement. Holly rose from her seat, glad to have Fowl out of her eyesight for a moment. Mulch's use of his pet name brought more color to her cheeks. She called him that, too.

Striding over to where Foaly sat, she patted his hairy shoulder. "Can you run a cross-reference over all the big banks in Munich? Try some mansions and museums, too."

Foaly nodded. "You read my mind, Holly. Just give me a second…"

As Foaly ran his search, Artemis addressed the Commander. "Pardon me, but what will become of Butler and myself? It would seem we've been displaced by this matter."

Kelp's ears turned red, tired already of hearing Fowl's patronizing address. Perhaps this was how Julius had felt. "You'll be housed for the time being. But nowhere public. We're in lockdown, and I don't want any fairies spotting two Mud Men in the city. They will think we're under attack." He rose, sighing, knowing full-well that Holly wouldn't like this one bit. "You two are going to have to remain at Holly's place for a while. Lay low."

This was met with widespread surprise. Artemis's eyebrows almost shot off his head, he raised them so fast. Mulch choked on the bit of curry he'd been delighted to discover hiding in a bowl, and Holly turned so fast she cricked her neck.

"_What_?" was the general consensus.

Trouble shook his head. "We don't have a choice. Holly, your house is the only secure place we can send him."

Holly's face was so red, one could've sworn Julius Root had returned from the dead. "What about _your_ place?" she asked, forgetting rank in her moment of panic.

Kelp shook his head. "I live in a public apartment. We can't risk Fowl and Butler being seen."

She turned to Mulch. "What about with you guys? You have our old office, Mulch, eh? Buddy?" Her pleas petered out in hopelessness.

"Sorry, _Captain_, but I think this is a police matter. An innocent civilian, such as myself, shouldn't get involved." Mulch appeared to be snickering behind his beard, but Holly couldn't tell for sure.

Foaly offered a similar excuse. "Police Plaza is too busy for Fowl, Holly. He'd get spotted for sure. I can't keep the Op Booth locked up forever, you know."

Holly swore. "D'Arvit." After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned to face Artemis. "Come on then Fowl, Butler. Let's get you out of here." She tried her best to keep a calm face, but she couldn't stop the rush of hot blood to her face. This was going to be a long three days…

**Holly's Apartment Building**

Situated on the lower-east side of Haven, the structure rose three stories, made from limestone. Not exactly classy, but well worth your ingots. They had arrived in a disguised LEP vehicle, and, after they were sure safe from prying eyes, Holly then proceeded to key in the code to open the main garage, and drove in.

Once they were inside, and the door had ground to a shut, Butler and Artemis had hopped out of the vehicle.

Holly's apartment was on the first story, like any soldier would have it. Close to the ground, with an easy means of escape, without having to bother with elevators or flights of stairs. There were no windows, for privacy.

Inside, the apartment yielded two bedrooms, a bathroom (For showering purposes only, of course. No self-respecting fairy would be caught dead in an indoor bathroom. Disgusting.), a kitchen, and a living room. She was proud of her decent accommodations, seeing as she was only a police officer. But Section Eight had covered her trip to Limbo, with pay. That was one bonus from missing out on three years. Enough to keep the up rent on this decent apartment for several years.

Upon their entry, Butler took a few moments to familiarize himself with the terrain, then checked for any possible emergency exits, weapon drawn. The LEP had been loath to let him keep it, but Butler had demanded it. And what sane fairy would refuse Butler when he was towering over him?

Satisfied with what he saw, he returned to where Holly and Artemis stood, in the entryway, and nodded. "We're secure. Nice place, by the way, Holly."

Holly smiled in response to the compliment, then turned to face Artemis. "Okay, Mud Boy, I've got two rooms. One of them's mine, obviously. You and Butler can share the other."

Even as she spoke, Butler wheeled the couch about so that it faced the front door. "That's all right," the massive bodyguard assured her. "I'll just crash on the couch." Yet, even as he sat on the furniture, an ominous creak told him otherwise.

Shaking his head, Butler rose, inquiring politely, "Holly, where's your kitchen? I'm going to try to fix everyone something to eat."

The elf, absolutely miniscule when compared with Butler, answered, "That way. You sure you know what you're doing?" Holly's eyebrows were raised, and she was skeptical that Butler knew his way around a fairy kitchen.

The immense Eurasian shrugged his shoulders, shaven head almost bumping the ceiling before he completed the gesture. "I'm certified in Cordon Bleu cooking, Captain. I think I can handle the contents of a fairy refrigerator."

Once Butler had ventured off on his little misadventure, Artemis immediately set up a fairy laptop which he'd borrowed from LEP headquarters. Immediately, Foaly's face filled the screen.

"Can you get me the feeds from Fowl Manor?"

"Copy that."

Suddenly, Fowl Manor's various rooms, hallways, and grounds were rendered lifelike on the futuristic laptop. Artemis had already taken a few pointers from Foaly's design for a new device he was working on. But, for the moment, their little crisis had priority.

Artemis's mismatched eyes were quickly glued to the screen, observing the enemy soldiers occupy his home. Surprisingly, Artemis remained very composed, not showing any sign of frustration, even while his enemies looted the vault and made off with valuable paintings. But the straw that broke the troll's back came when he spotted several of the thugs raiding the larders. His eyebrows rose marginally as they ate their way through his pantry's wares, but it almost broke him when he saw what came next.

Holly had just returned from a shower, head still wrapped in a towel, to spot Artemis's head hung in his hands, the Irish youth clearly in the throes of despair.

Alarmed, she ran over, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Artemis? What's wrong?" Concern was clear in her voice.

He vaguely gestured towards the screen, not bothering to meet her eyes. The thugs had continued to eat, and had just broken open a large and expensive-looking container of… something.

"Artemis, what is that?"

She could've sworn he was on the verge of tears. "Caviar. They're eating _caviar_ as a dip. With _pita chips_."

Holly heaved a sigh of relief, chuckling slightly to herself. Punching him gently on the shoulder, she mused, "You're different from other kids, you know."

"You just noticed?"

The captain shook her head. "Never mind, Arty." There was a moment of silence as they both let the word sink in, but neither moved to correct her. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, in which Artemis and Holly cast a few furtive glances at each other, Holly changed the subject. "So, what's keeping Butler with the food?"

Closer inspection revealed a very disgruntled-looking Butler, staring down a small assortment of entirely alien food products. Well, alien to him, at least.

As the duo entered the room, the bodyguard turned to face them. "It's hopeless. I can't recognize _any_ of this stuff!" Holding up a handful of a leafy, purple plant, he inquired, "What _is_ this?"

Holly spent the next few minutes instructing Butler on the general contents of the fridge, while Artemis contemplated a vaguely familiar carton. Pouring a small glass of its white contents, he asked, "And what, pray tell, would this be?"

"That, Arty," said Holly, throwing out the word experimentally, "Is milk."

Butler and Artemis heaved a collective sigh of relief at something familiar in this foreign kitchen, and Artemis took a tentative sip. He nodded in satisfaction. "It's delicious."

Holly smiled. "I know. Can't stand bad milk. I mean, the dairy toads yield the best stuff."

Artemis had stopped listening at the word _toads_, instead focusing all of his will on spitting the contents of his mouth into the sink. After a moment of retching, he rose, face pale. "_Toads_?" he asked incredulously.

All Holly could do was laugh.


	6. Chapter 6: Power Outage

Holly returned through the apartment door, arms laden with bags of takeout. Since Butler's kind gesture of cooking the meal had failed, she'd simply ambled over to Spud's Spud Emporium, and ordered for the three of them.

Setting the food down on a table in the kitchen, she noticed Artemis and Butler in the living room, talking about something or other.

Waving a hand, she called out, "Hey, Mud Boys, food's here!"

Artemis's head snapped in her direction, and his previously stern, brooding expression was replaced by one of curiosity. Fairy takeout. This was going to be an experience, doubtless.

They both rose, striding over to where Holly stood. Entering the kitchen, Artemis was quick to examine the food closely, still edgy after his recent discovery of toad-milk. Holding an odd-looking plastic glass of… something, he held the food article to the light, trying to examine it more closely.

Butler occupied himself by setting out a few plates, which he was delighted to know the fairies used as well. Eventually they managed to seat themselves, with Butler situated on a cushion on the floor. Even still, he more than reached the eye level of the table's two other occupants.

"Okay," muttered Holly, digging through a sim-paper bag. "A burger for me," she listed, lowering a hefty paper-wrapped object onto a plate. "A nettle smoothie, again for me." She snagged the drink Artemis had been inspecting as she spoke. "I didn't know what for sure to get you two, so I'm afraid you'll have to make do with some Bog's Pizza. Oh, and Butler," she nodded to the bodyguard as she spoke, "They had a few of the berries you requested for a smoothie." Holly tossed a similar cup to Butler, and another to Artemis. She had to admit, for a Mud Man, Butler sure knew how to eat healthy.

Butler's nimble hands deftly caught the drink, but Artemis, never very coordinated, fumbled with the drink for an alarming moment, before finally managing to catch it properly.

Rolling her eyes, Holly unwrapped and took a bite of her hamburger. No meat in it, of course. She wasn't a barbarian. Then she amused herself watching Artemis and Butler open the pizza box unsurely, fearful of what they might find. They heaved a collective sigh of relief at the sight of reassuringly familiar pizza. A complete health-bomb, of course, with enough grease in it to stain a hundred shirts, but that was Bog's Pizza for you. She found it quite amusing as Artemis handled a slice as if it were a venomous snake; carefully trying to lower it onto his plate so as to avoid a mess, but it was in vain. A spout of grease squired him in the face, much to her amusement.

After a while of silence as they all consumed their food, Artemis voiced his concerns. "Will the LEP manage to handle the situation in Munich?" he asked, once he had downed another bite of the pizza. Normally Artemis wouldn't have tolerated such an unhealthy food, but he was, quite truthfully, famished.

Holly sipped from her smoothie before responding. "I'm not sure." A look of worry crossed her face, and she set down her drink. "We've never had much to worry about with humans, but if they're working with fairies…" Her voice trailed off. They didn't need to be told things were looking grim.

*****

LEP Headquarters, Operations Booth, Two Hours Later

Foaly sat at his station, tin foil hat slightly askew, fingers dancing across the keyboard. The centaur pulled up various windows, running several diagnostic checks on his system. Good to keep things updated.

His hairy fingers tapped in his password, opening his most recent search program. The list of high-value targets that Holly had asked him for had finally finished running, refining, and running again. He had a few hundred possible targets remaining on his list.

On the wall, the television was tuned into the PPTV channel. On the screen, a smallish pixie, who looked completely out of place in her ridiculous blond wig and snazzy green suit, stood among a construction site. All around, dwarves and sprites worked tirelessly, setting up various large metal structures, trailing power cables, and scaling scaffolding to access higher areas.

The fairy nodded to a cameraperson, trying to deliver her report while simultaneously dancing around the construction workers as they did their job. "Hello Haven! This is Abelia Rookwood, reporting to you live from the northern quadrant, where we're keeping tabs on the biggest construction project since the Millennium Dam. A few months ago we reported on the Council's clearing of the new power plant, and now we're seeing the result! Bismuth corporations, owned by the by now famous Alder Bismuth, CEO of Bismuth Engineering." She ducked to avoid a long pipe carried by a careless sprite, preoccupied with waving at the screen, something suspiciously resembling, "Hi, Mom!" on his lips.

Once she'd regained her composure, the reporter went on. "For a record two hundred tons of solid gold, the most ever cleared for a public project, Bismuth is setting up a power plant capable of outdoing our older Koboi model by," she glanced quickly at her teleprompter, the action made painfully obvious by her simultaneous attempt to dance about some unfinished girder work, "Three hundred percent! The newer model will measure up at two thousand feet tall, and with enough space inside to house all of Haven itself! The model is currently in its early stages, and the exact specifications haven't been released, but projections give us a completed plant in about eight months. As you can see, the basic skeletal structure has been completed, and the internal power core is absolutely finished, and it's a no-personnel area, due to alarmingly high levels of radiation. We're going over now to our radiology expert, Doctor Gruss Sorrel, for a deeper look at the effects of alternative energy."

Foaly's attention was lost when the channel began to display a wizened-looking fairy, a pair of large, outdated spectacles mounted on his face. By the way he kept glancing over them, he was wearing them just for show.

Returning his focus to the computer's readout, Foaly had just begun narrowing down his list when his incoming message icon blipped. Dragging a cursor (resembling a hoof) across his screen, Foaly clicked the ACCEPT MESSAGE option.

Trouble Kelp's face flashed onto the screen. By the looks of things, the Commander was still topside, seeing as how the scenery around him wouldn't have looked out of place in _The Sound of Music_. The Commander seemed rather upset, but he pinched the bridge of his nose, then spoke. "What have you got for me, Foaly? You've got me something, right?"

"Yep." Foaly had himself a nice little whinny as the Commander's face registered a deeper shade of red on his thermal camera, although he didn't need any sophisticated equipment to tell he was rattled.

"Enough with the 'Yep's, Foaly! I am a commander, and you will address me as such! Now, _do you have anything for me?_"

"Yep, _sir_."

Trouble switched off his audio for a moment, and vented. Once he was finished, his face had dropped a few levels in shade, although a few Retrieval boys kept sparing him frightened glances. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Things aren't going right, Foaly. First Koboi, now this little fiasco. We all know you're a smart little pony, so why don't you _show us_?"

Foaly decided now wasn't the best time to toy with the commander, so he answered curtly, "Right. I've got preliminary list of high-value targets, but it'll need some modification before it's ready. Tell me, commander, what's the rush?"

Kelp sighed, but he understood Foaly's curiosity. "We're going to have to stake out the area for a few days before the humans arrive. Which is why I need you to work a little faster, Foaly."

Nodding, Foaly continued working on his list. Dozens of names dropped off the roster. With a note of satisfaction in his voice, he finally sat back, answering, "There you go, Commander. We've got a few possibilities. I think we can ignore the museums you see highlighted in green. They'll have only artifacts, and those are rather hard to fence, or so I've heard. No, they'll be going for the money."

Kelp nodded. Now Foaly was talking sense. "It will be much harder to trace. Okay, Foaly. Run me up that list, and get me the biggest bank in Munich."

Foaly had to disagree. "Sorry, Commander, but Fowl disagrees. He told me that we should be looking at rather smaller banks. Still a few dozen million marks in each, of course, but nothing so big that the heist will be next to impossible."

Trouble seemed rather irked at being ordered around by a Mud Man, and a juvenile at that, but he knew Fowl was right. He always was.

"Whatever. Now, what can you tell me about—"

Foaly never heard what the Commander wanted. At that precise moment, all of his monitors went dead, the lights flickered out, and the computers died with a feeble hum. For a moment there was complete blackness, then Foaly's auxiliary power kicked in, illuminating the Ops Booth with the ambient glow from several long-lasting glow strips in the ceiling and along the fire escape route on the floor.

The centaur was left in darkness for about five minutes, running a systems check on his laptop, which ran on its own power, before the lights kicked back in. Immediately turning to the now-running television screen, he was rewarded with a rather stunning view of the reporter woman's brilliant black eye.

Batting away a techie who tried to apply a cream to her swollen eye, she turned to the camera's as their signal returned. "This is Abelia Rookwood again, coming to you live from the Bismuth Plant. It seems that another major power line has just been diverted into the new system, and the loss of power was only temporary. Still, I for one was a little taken by surprise. As you can see, I fell," she finished somewhat lamely.

This was strange. The plant had lost power for a relatively long period of time, something Haven wouldn't miss when their entire existence ran on artificial light. Still, it was excusable. Nothing this large had ever been attempted in power sources, and there were bound to be some pretty big kinks in the system to get worked out. Personally, he'd have loved to take a closer look at the design plans, but Alder Bismuth was a paranoid man. The reclusive billionaire had long since remained out of the public eye, and hadn't even made an official appearance yet to discuss his masterpiece. As a matter of fact, Foaly couldn't even find any recent pictures taken of him. Apparently the good scientist enjoyed his privacy.

Even as he contemplated these developments, the Commander's voice crackled back to life. "…if you're reading this, acknowledge. Foaly, can you read me? Acknowledge—"

"Reading you loud and clear, bossman." He responded, bringing up Kelp's visuals. It seemed the Commander had resorted to booting up a large, clunky transmitter, one of the older Koboi models, to get his signal through. "Headsets not working?"

"Negative. What's going on down there?"

Foaly's eyes scanned the readouts of Haven's power supply. Running at one hundred and twelve percent. That was phenomenal. One wouldn't have guessed the power supply had just been cut.

"We lost power for a few minutes. Apparently the new system's got a few bugs. We haven't made the full jump yet to the upgrade."

"Copy that. Just make sure we don't lose signal again"

Something dawned on Foaly. Slowly, at first, but soon a nervous chill was spreading down his spine faster than a tunneling dwarf. "Sir, if I'm not mistaken, and I'm never mistaken, we shouldn't have lost signal. We have our own generators. If anything, our signals got blocked, but by what?"

Kelp shrugged off the news. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you get me that list. We need the highest probable target. And get me Holly on the line. We might be needing her topside, too."

Foaly responded as he typed. "And what about Fowl? Do we need him as well?"

Kelp made no response. He didn't need to. As much as they all resented it, they would be needing Fowl more than anyone in the days to come.

*****

Holly's Apartment, Haven

Artemis sat alone, examining, with great interest, the fairy entertainment center arrayed before him. It was impressive stuff. Everything from the wafer-thin memory unit to the plasma television emanated progress. Humanity would be lucky to come within a century of this technology…

After a moment of rummaging through Holly's television cabinet, he located what he felt must have been the remote. Clicking the button in the top left corner, the television flared to life. It might have been the fairy symbol for ON upon the button's surface, or it might have been the large red button it was imprinted upon. Honestly, for all their differences, fairies and humans thought a lot alike.

Browsing through the fairy channels, he selected a news network and observed a report on the construction of a fairy power plant. His jaw almost dropped at the sheer vastness of the project, and he made a mental note to ask Foaly about this Bismuth character.

The Irish youth brushed a lock of black hair from his pale, gaunt face, and his mismatched eyes flicked to the remote again as he selected the option for movie viewing. An interactive screen appeared, complete with a list containing hundreds of titles. As Holly had once said, CDs were for museums.

He had been contemplating viewing a documentary on the life and times of Frond, when something else caught his eye. An option winked at him slightly. It was titled Crisis: The B'Wa Kell Revolution. Artemis almost chuckled. Could it be?

Selecting it, he snorted when he noticed a small disclaimer stating that the movie was based on true events, then went straight into a firefight scene.

Softnose laser bursts tore out chunks from the walls of a dark, dismal building, through which a faint light managed to pierce the windows. A boot emerged on the screen, crashing into the ground, raising a cloud of ash and dust. A figure emerged ominously from the gloom.

Raising a Neutrino pistol, a slender, lithe figure emerged, managing to look both menacing and (Artemis hated to admit it to himself, and silently cursed the forces of puberty) extremely attractive at the same time in a matte black LEP jumpsuit. Her helmet was donned, but the visor was up, allowing the audience to see the lower portion on a female elf's face, mouth frozen in a grim slash of determination. Her eyes were in shadow, adding to the effect.

For the next few minutes, Artemis was transfixed, observing as the officer exchanged gunfire with the goblin triad, performing feats unimaginable and, quite frankly, extremely unlikely as she, one by one, disarmed her opponents.

As the last goblin fell before her, she raised her face to the light, and hazel eyes were immediately visible to the screen. Holly's eyes.

It wasn't Holly, of course. No, this was (Artemis hastily consulted the credits for a moment) Skylar Peat, three-time AMP winner and Actress of the Year as of three months ago. Apparently this film had been received well.

Artemis continued watching at his leisure, awaiting the inevitable scene in which he would be introduced. He had expected perhaps a gross alteration of his character, but he wasn't prepared to see a frighteningly accurate, completely computer generatated Fowl riding into the Sahara desert in a dark vehicle with blacked-out windows. As he emerged, Hugo Boss shoes crunching on the gravel road (Here Artemis gagged. He wouldn't be caught dead in a Hugo Boss… _anything_), he nodded to a large, brutish man, whom Artemis took to be Butler. As they strolled, no, _stalked_, yes, that was the right word, toward a small village, Artemis got the distinct impression that he was being made out as a villain. Not entirely untrue, but it still hurt.

Before he could reach his destination, however, he was accosted by the fairy actress representation of Holly, who materialized directly behind him, gun leveled and cocked, the barrel jammed into his skull. Of course, Holly wouldn't have pulled such a stupid move, exposing her back to Butler, but it was great for the cinematic effect.

"Freeze, Mud Boy."

He turned slowly, mirrored lenses contributing to the overall effect of inhumanity. A cold sneer erupted across his face. "Captain. It has been too long."

"It won't be much longer unless you start talking."

Artemis winced. Different species, same pathetic Hollywood one-liners.

Just as he watched himself being interrogated (rather brutally) by a much younger Julius Root, Artemis's fun was interrupted by a blackout. Instantly, all electrical devices failed, and emergency lighting illuminated the exit signs to the abode.

Butler strode into the room immediately, weapon drawn and cocked. He did this much more professionally than the television representation of Holly would have done, and he quickly appraised the situation. Lowering, but not holstering, his sidearm, he inquired, "What's going on? Where's Holly?"

Artemis shrugged indifferently, not at all alarmed by the sudden loss of power. "I would suspect she's off on her daily constitutional. As for the power, Haven is installing a revolutionary new power plant, so I presume that this is a temporary glitch as the system switches over."

Of course, this was all guesswork, but he had a hunch he was right. And his hunches usually were.

Within minutes, during which Butler took up residence by the door, the power returned, and the movie had skipped forward a few scenes, so that Butler's first view of the program was one of a painfully recognizable him tearing through a cowering goblin.

"Ah," he sighed, running a hand over his shaven head. "I was unaware the People felt _that_ badly about me."

The sim-Butler then turned his weapon, a fearsome ebony six-shooter, equipped with an impractical bayonet attachment, on Briar Cudgeon, whose melted complexion even fairy simulators hadn't been quite able to capture. The disgruntled officer pressed a Softnose laser beneath Artemis's upturned chin, and the Mud Boy's face had a look of defiant confidence Artemis hadn't quite recalled being there in real life.

Even as they gazed on, the real Holly stumbled in, swinging the door behind her. She was dressed in a form-fitting tracksuit, stained with sweat. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she gasped for breath. She checked a heart-rate meter strapped onto her wrist computer, and, satisfied with the result, collapsed into a sofa.

For some reason, Artemis was far more entranced by the exhausted elf than the calm, cool star currently disemboweling a goblin muscleman. Holly shut her eyes, and for a moment, Artemis felt a wave of warmth roll through him. She seemed so vulnerable, so weak… He wanted to say something to her, anything. But words wouldn't come. He just couldn't stop staring.

Butler managed to spot this first, and quickly moved in, elbowing his charge in the ribs. Artemis immediately snapped out of it, returning, shamefacedly, to the movie, pretending to be interested in a reenactment of Cudgeon's downfall, but all he saw was Holly, her face burned into his eyes as if he'd stared at the sun too long. Would that show up on Foaly's Retimager? The centaur had enough to laugh about…

Soon, Holly regained her strength, rising, and took a swig from a bottle of water. Wiping a small droplet from the corner of her mouth, Artemis couldn't help but notice how her lips, although having not been through the same amount of surgeries Peat's had been exposed to, seemed so enticing then and there. He remembered the gorilla's cage with a pang of longing and remorse. Then he was himself again.

"Captain," he said cordially.

Holly glanced in his direction, panted a few more moments, then replied eloquently, "Fowl."

Trying to keep his raging hormones under control, he made a brave attempt at conversation. "Been out exercising, have you?"

"Yes, Arty. Some people tend to do that," she mocked, having recovered fully from her stupor.

Happy for some witty discussion to distract him, Artemis parried, "Yes, I can understand how those who cannot exercise their most important muscle feel the need to stretch the others."

Holly mouthed a sarcastic _Ha-ha_, before asking, "Did you notice that power outage?"  
Artemis nodded. "I suspect it is your new generator. Similar things have happened down in Dublin, but, of course, nothing of this scale. That Bismuth man is a genius."

Holly nodded. "He used to teach physics at my high school. Genius of an elf."

Butler smiled genially at Holly and Artemis, then interrupted. "So, any idea how much longer we're going to be staked out here? I don't know about you, Artemis, but I for one can't be wearing the same shirt for more than a day."

The Irish youth nodded in agreement. Hygiene was a must. "Yes, Captain. I am afraid I am without proper clothing as well, you see." He gestured toward the robe he had been wearing before the attack on Fowl Manor. It was, by now, severely dirty and tattered, giving Artemis the look of a pompous beggar, and Holly smiled at the thought.

"I'm afraid I don't have much for you two, but I could run an order to Foaly in a minute. He should be contacting us any time now—"

Suddenly, Holly's helmet, which had been placed reverently upon her dinner table, began bouncing slightly, emanating several loud beeping noises.

Donning her helmet, she didn't bother to activate the sound buffer. Nothing to hide from Artemis and Butler, after all.

"Foaly, what's going on?"

"Ah, Holly!" came his reply. "All's well up here. Commander Kelp wants a word with you. But first, tell me, how goes it with the Muddy Love—"

Holly's visor was down so fast that she could have sworn she'd jammed it in place. "Watch it, Foaly."


	7. Chapter 7: Munich

**The Munich Countryside, Three Hours Later**

Holly alighted soundlessly on the grassy knoll overlooking the German metropolis of Munich. The grass felt good to her touch, and she couldn't resist taking a whiff of the rich Bavarian soil, but even now her elfin nose detected trace toxins in the earth, evidence of man's corruption. Honestly, some day the Mud Men would pay.

Making sure her DoubleDex wings were folded snugly into their compartments, Holly nodded with satisfaction and made for a small team of black-clad Retrieval boys, their tinted visors reflecting the midday light. Maybe it was male bravado, trying to look cool for the lady, or maybe it was because that single UV-resistant pane was all that kept those fairies from baking in the sun. Sure, they weren't dwarves, but even elves' magic was weakened in daylight, and they couldn't afford that. Not now.

Normally Foaly would have set up a time-stop, but there wasn't enough time, which was ironic, Holly supposed. Fowl would've appreciated it much more.

Trouble was busying himself surveying the city from a distance, and as Holly approached, didn't even take his eyes off his targets. "Link up with our system, Captain. Foaly's given us a readout."

Holly did as she was told, blinking in sequence at several of her HUD's settings, before a schematic of Munich was superimposed over the actual city, several key buildings highlighted in electric pink.

Apparently Foaly still had time for a few laughs.

Kelp, however, was nowhere nearly as amiable. The LEP Commander's voice was gruff and terse as he briefed her. "Foaly's narrowed down our probable locations to two. _Das Imperium Reserve von München_ and the _München Künstler-Haven_."

Holly took this in stride, her gift of tongues easily translating the Germanic speech into understandable Gnommish. So these crooks were hitting a museum or a bank, eh? Well, they'd be hitting something, that was for sure, though she suspected it would only be after her fist connected with their heads.

"Any ideas?"

Kelp gestured at the bank. "My best guess is that they'll be moving in on the bank. Diggums was right. They'll be wanting cold hard marks, not art. Easier to smuggle and to trade with. We'll send a four-man squad over to the gallery, but our main force will station itself at the bank.

Holly's eyebrows rose marginally, her hazel eyes staring at each neon-pink structure. Well, pink in her visor, at any rate. "What about Fowl? Last I heard, he wanted to come topside, too."

"Negative. We're keeping him underground. We have enough problems without throwing that Mud Boy in the mix. Besides, he'd only need protecting."

Much to her alarm, Holly found herself deflating somewhat inside when Kelp put it that way. Some part of her had longed for Artemis to join them on the mission. Because it reminded her of the old days, perhaps? Maybe. But on some unconscious level, perhaps she had ulterior motives. Wincing visibly, she tried not to let her disappointment show in her stance. Kelp didn't need to know that much.

"Sir, if I may object, Artemis… Fowl… can be a big help in situations like these."

But her superior was adamant. "No, Captain. I'll call him in only if I want all the marks in that reserve to disappear."

"So you don't trust him."

She hadn't meant for it to sound so angry, or to seem so disrespectful, but it was too late. Kelp cast her a glance now, and though she couldn't see his expression, she guessed it was confusion, mixed with frustration.

"Holly," he began, and she noticed the careful use of her first name. He spoke slowly, as one would to a dim child. Or as Artemis did to any instructor who accused him of plagiarism. "I think I understand your problem."

Her insides were ice. She couldn't breathe. This was it. Kelp knew. It was over. At best, she'd be scrubbing the deepest darkest tunnel for the rest of her career. At worst, she'd be an outcast. And all for what? For loving a Mud Man?  
She mentally slapped herself. It wasn't love. It couldn't be. Not Fowl. Not Arty.

"Sir, I—"

"No need to explain, Holly." This was it. It was _sayonara_ to her Recon days. She'd be a laughingstock. An object of curiosity and repulsion for her entire people. Kelp was about to bring the hammer down on her, and all for these… confused feelings about Artemis.

"I understand completely."

What? What was he talking about?  
"I mean, I can't say I haven't thought about it myself."

This was getting a little weird.

"Honestly, I can't blame you for wanting to relieve the glory days. I think you miss your old adventures."

Oh gods, he didn't understand. Silently, Holly offered up a prayer, grateful that Kelp remained in the dark.

"Well, sir…" She scratched the back of her helmet, the picture of guilty confession. "You caught me."

Kelp nodded understandingly, then punched her affectionately in the shoulder. "It's alright, Captain. We all want to relive the good old days, every now and again. But they're over. Julius is dead. And we've got a job to do."

The very mention of Commander Root drove all thought of Artemis from Holly's head. His very name was a stimulant. She wouldn't let her Commander down. She could just picture him, sitting somewhere far away, smoking a big old fungus cigar and making the rest of the dearly departed turn in their graves at the stench of it.

_"Never thought I'd see the day. My own Captain, gone to pieces over a Mud Boy."_

No. That couldn't happen. She had to be ready for her mission. She couldn't let Julius down.

"Thank you sir. Permission to join the reserve team?"

Kelp saluted her with pride. "Granted, soldier."  
Without another word, Holly took off. Maybe a bit of flying would clear her head.

_"No, sir,"_ she answered the ghost-image of Root. _"Not me."_

*****

Holly's Apartment, Haven, Lower-East Side

After awakening from a particularly refreshing nap, he set out to work.

Artemis paced, running through a list of mental scenarios again and again, calculating, planning, plotting. Essentially, doing what he did best.

But no matter what he conjured up, no matter how many ideas he analyzed again and again, he couldn't banish that creeping feeling of foreboding that had ensnared him. Something wasn't right. Foaly had contacted him a few hours ago, informing him that he wouldn't be accompanying Holly on her surface stint.

Apart from his general frustration of being cut out of the deal, Artemis had been surprised to discover a feeling of dejection at being separated from Holly. Honestly, something was going to go awry, and when it did, that feisty little elfin captain would be caught in the crossfire.

_Ah!_ he thought to himself. _What am I thinking? Holly's a perfectly capable field officer. She's handled worse things than the average S.W.A.T commando. She'll be fine._

And, personally, he was slightly appalled at what he saw as a growing weakness, festering, causing discord in his mind.

He had to think. It was what he did best. He had to figure out what was wrong. Because something didn't add up. Holly and Kelp were closing in on the bank, which was the logical choice. It was the choice he would've made. Think like a criminal.

It struck him as odd how, these days, especially since Holly had come back into his life, he found it more and more necessary to think like a crook. Normally this was no problem for him, yet now it was like he was loosing the capacity for deviousness that he had so prized. His criminal edge. It was slipping away.

And what was that? A bad thing? A good thing? He didn't know. But now wasn't the time. Now he needed to figure out the enemy's plan, and put a stop to it.

The art gallery. Full of interesting, beautiful artwork that would attract hordes of interested, armed police officers. It would be neigh on impossible to steal them and effectively fence them away for the profits needed. It would require a task force of well-equipped, expertly-trained soldiers and thieves.

Then again, what they were facing seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

Yes, that would make sense. The smart thief would go for the cash, which the LEP would anticipate. So they would instead make for the much more heavily guarded museum, in which they could steal the artwork, make a quick escape, and be in the process of selling it on the black market before the LEP had even batted a single fairy eyelash. They could even arrange for a nasty surprise to be waiting for their pursuers in the bank. They could have been there and back before it had even opened for business that morning. Before they'd even attracted LEP attention. Before they'd so much as looked at Artemis's house funny.

It was so obvious. It was so ingenious.

He wished he'd thought of it first.

Making for his laptop with the intention of calling up Foaly and bouncing his theory off him, Artemis thought better of it. Even as he sat down, he closed the PowerBook's lid, and instead sought out Butler, who was busying himself meditating. There was plenty of time, and he only had a suspicion to arm himself. He'd seek his bodyguard's counsel first.

The enormous Eurasian didn't even right himself from the stress-relieving handstand he currently practiced, instead answering slowly, "It makes sense. They'd need a good team to break into a bank and plant a few traps. It's not like they were there to steal anything. Their mission would've been to go undetected. And in a bank of such security, that couldn't be easy. We're facing a dangerous enemy."

"Your words are so comforting."

"They don't need to be. Comfort is a luxury. We can't afford it. What we need is preparedness. We need to warn the LEP before they try anything."

For the first time, Artemis breathed a sigh of relief. "That's alright. They're not moving in for another three hours. That's when the enemy's projected to make their move."

Artemis cast a glance at the fairy wall clock, and, despite its alien nature, successfully decoded its message: Nine o'clock, AM. Three hours until the LEP moved in. With a sigh of satisfaction, he flipped open his laptop's lid, almost lazily, and began typing a message to Foaly. Then something caught his eye. His computer's clock.

It read forty to noon.

That didn't make sense. Holly's clock clearly said it was nine…

Then Artemis felt like he'd been sucker-punched by a troll.

Tricked. He'd been tricked. He, Artemis Fowl, had been duped.

"Butler," Artemis called across the apartment. He spoke with deceptive calm, but Butler knew him well enough to sense something was wrong. He deployed from his Zen meditation position, making his way through the flat, and approached his charge.

Resting a gentle hand on his shoulder, Butler inquired, "Yes, Artemis?"

Artemis didn't speak for a moment, his blue eyes still fixed on his computer's readout. Butler read the time, and he guessed the rest.

"Oh no."

Artemis nodded. "We've been tricked. Butler, I wonder, did you take a nap, by any chance?"

The tremendous Eurasian seemed to blush slightly. "Yes, Artemis. I took the liberty, since I figured Holly's apartment was secure."

Sensing his bodyguard's embarrassment, Artemis quickly placated him. "Relax, Butler. I was visited by a similar desire to sleep. I wonder, did you wake up just prior to my entering the room?"

Butler nodded.

Artemis swore, which was most unlike him, and his words of employ were of the choicest Gnommish kind. Artemis had long since picked up the habit of cursing in the fairy tongue to avoid corrupting his younger siblings. "Check the closets. And the furniture."

Butler took off, and within moments returned. A small, silvery capsule lay on the palm of his hand, seeming for all the world like an oversized grain of rice.

"Sleeper-Deepers," Artemis breathed. "We've been sedated. Someone's been here, and adjusted Holly's clock. Someone doesn't want us to help them."

Without another word, he brought up the video chat screen, hailing Foaly's computer with an urgent-marked message. The centaur picked up after a few moments. He appeared to be on another carrot-break.

"Fowl," he said. Or rather, "Fffoughl," through a mouthful of vegetable.

Artemis wasted no time. "Foaly, we've been had. Butler and I have been sedated, and we think that Holly's walking into a trap." In his panic, he forgot that it was the entire Retrieval team that was in danger, but he had thoughts only for Holly.

Foaly seemed to pick up on it, but said nothing, his face instead turning pale, highlighting the stream of orange juice leaking from his mouth. After a moment's shock, he immediately wiped it away, and set to work bringing up Kelp's frequency. "Commander Kelp, come in. This is LEP Headquarters, do you read me? D'Arvit!" He tried another channel. "Holly, you there? Grub?"

No response. Artemis hadn't expected anyone to answer the calls anyway. This had been carefully planned. Only an oversight concerning his human-built laptop had alerted them to the situation at all.

"Foaly, Butler and I need to get to the surface—fast. When's the next shuttle?" It would have been more expedient to use a titanium-built egg to rocket to the surface on a core blast, but they'd be no use to Holly as piles of organic pudding. Humans couldn't survive the hotshots.

"An hour, if I kick off a party of vacationing pixies on their way to the Alps."

Artemis was already pulling on a coat. "Do it."

"Kelp's given a no-fly order to you two, but I think this changes things. Just be careful up there."  
Artemis was already gone, moving for the pickup zone at which the LEP shuttle would arrive to take them to their ride. It was Butler who answered. "Relax, friend. Holly's tough, and she's got a top-grade Retrieval team with her. We probably won't even be needed."

Foaly couldn't resist a gibe. "I wasn't talking about that. Those pixies will be smarting about getting kicked off their flight. You don't want to see an angry pixie. You'll be staring down the end of a lawsuit before a dwarf can fart."

But he spoke to empty air. Butler was gone too.

*****

**Munich, en route to **_**Das Imperium Reserve**_**, thirty-six minutes later**

Holly swept in silently, directly to the right of Trouble, who took point on the V-formation the Retrieval boys currently occupied themselves in. Below them, the last of the green countryside faded away, to be replaced by the sprawling cityscape of one of Germany's largest cities.

She'd gotten Fowl out of her mind for the moment. This just felt right, being back on the job. With a pair of wings on her back, and a Neutrino in her grip, she was at home.

They lost altitude at a measured pace, closing in on the target. At less than a mile away, the bank already dominated their sights, a gigantic xenolith of steel and glass, a monument to the dominance of man. It looked so much less intimidating in hot pink, but she kept her chuckles to herself.

They'd switched off communications to base as per protocol when dealing with a fairy-technology-equipped enemy. They'd hear their transmissions a mile away. Or, if they were indeed sporting fairy decoders, three kilometers into the crust. Besides, they'd be able to receive Foaly's messages anyway if he needed them.

In mere minutes, the LEP's Recon boys would be put to the test. They'd been tracking a group of likely-looking humans, viable suspects for the crime, although their guesses were subject to doubt. It wasn't like they were wearing signs saying, 'I'm packing fairy weapons. Kindly blow me off the map.' If they were working with fairies, things might just get difficult.

The minutes ticked down as the possible culprits moved about as tiny, colored ants on their Heads Up Display, acid green and plum purple, respectively. Foaly seemed to be having a thing for violent colors recently.

Ant Team 1 approached the bank, but veered off several blocks away, instead making for a nearby college campus. International criminals, fraternity members, not much difference. Holly would let Recon slide on that one. She didn't know what those college students had been up to to have Recon tag them as possible suspects, and she didn't want to find out.

The others, the Purples, moved right in. It was almost too easy. They parked their vehicles a block away, and made a direct beeline for the building's front entrance. Honestly, no creativity. Artemis would have scoffed.

The fairy team moved in as well, slipping through glass doors just as the targets did, nothing more than heat distortions above their heads, easily explained away by a nearby vent.

Holly's squad took their positions, covering all exits and laying up in secure locations, weapons trained on the enemies' backs. If a firefight broke out, they'd be ready.

The Purple Ants seemed professional. They didn't bunch up, subtly covering the exits in maneuvers that mirrored the invisible commandos, their clothing indicating the average German citizen or traveler.

One approached a teller, an expression of boredom on his clean-shaven face. His skin was deathly pale, and his eyes a deep, deep black. His calm, cool visage suggested a white-collar executive or a cocky lawyer. Average clientele for the _Imperium_. Holly's visor zoomed in on his face, taking dozens of mug shots in a single second. They'd be sent back to LEP Headquarters as undetectable one-way signals. She packaged them in an e-mail, and prepared to send it to Foaly, when she noticed something wrong.

She couldn't get a signal. They were well within transmission range, and there were no magma flares to block their messages, but Foaly's end only came up in static. This reminded her too much of the Koboi incident. The first one. She cast an alarmed glance at Kelp, who was busying himself with hand signals to the rest of the team. He caught her gestures, which seemed more closely related to frantic arm-waving than commando messages, but he got the message all the same. _We've got trouble, Trouble._

But before he could even say a word, the Purple Team Leader smiled mechanically at the banker, and said, "Hello. I'd like to make a withdrawal."

In an instant, he'd leapt the counter. In one second, his men had disabled and disarmed the security guards. Before Holly could so much as prime her weapon, they'd closed the doors, and rounds had been fired overhead to panic the customers, narrowly avoiding giving Grub a permanent haircut.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the man announced genially, as if he merely discussed today's seafood special. "This bank is ours."

Without another word, he nodded to one of his compatriots, a mammoth of a man, who made Butler look like a twig, who suddenly whipped off his coat, tossing strange devices to his fellows. They screwed them into their ears, and pushed a button. The machines hummed with an inner blue light. Holly recognized Foaly's signal disruptor. That wasn't even standard issue for the LEP yet.

With another flourish, three Sleeper-Deepers rolled across the floor, as did every customer in the building. Turning his fake smile to the ceiling, as if he and the burnished steel shared a private joke, he spoke again. For one second Holly thought he conversed with his accomplices. That second cost her a lot.

"Looks like it's just us, my little fairy friends."

Then the entire room erupted in gunfire.


	8. Chapter 8: Crossfire

Fairy Fort 67B, Three miles outside of Munich

Artemis staggered out of the shuttle, vision swimming before his mismatched eyes. Honestly, that was the last time he left the shuttle to autopilot. The blasted thing had bloody well near smeared them against the chute wall, and machines didn't care if they crashed or not, so it repeated this maneuver with alarming frequency. Artemis suspected faulty wiring. Or maybe pixie sabotage due to their commandeering the vessel.

Butler fared a little better, but not much. Suffice it to say, whereas Artemis displayed a smashing shade of top-'o-the-mornin'-to-yeh green, he remained simply very, very pale. For a moment they both breathed deeply, gathering their bearings. When they had finished, they set out for a nearby country road, upon which three vehicles remained parked. The white Honda had been leased to them by the LEP to reach their target, seeing as how no fairies could accompany them, due to the fact that only half a dozen remained alerted to their presence in the fairy world. They'd be going on their own.

But even as he approached, Artemis's plight was forgotten for a moment, and he contemplated the other two cars. One was a run-down old hulk, with both fenders missing and a lingering odor of what suspiciously smelled like sour toad milk, though perhaps that was simply Artemis's imagination, and the other…

"Artemis, you can't."

He eyed the car with an expression approaching hunger. "I'm sure they'd understand. After all, this is in the best interests of the world, isn't it?"

"That doesn't justify stealing a car."

"So I'll leave a note."

"What? _'Sorry I stole your Lamborghini. Promise to bring it back?'_ Yeah, that'll work."

Artemis ran a pale hand over the vehicle's pristine hood. "It's almost begging to be stolen. What's it doing out here, anyway?"

"I thought you were above thievery now."

He shrugged with a devilish smile. "I could indulge myself once in a while. I've earned it. Remember that Ferrari in London?"

Butler sighed. "I had to drag you away from it."

"Old habits die hard."

"Holly wouldn't approve."

In the past this might have served only as an irksome reminder to mind his manners, or Holly might crush his toes under her boot, but now Butler's words, intentionally or not, carried greater weight. _Holly._

He was immediately snapped out of it, walking away from the fiery orange Lamborghini with a sense of sadness. "Take all the fun out of it, will you?"

Butler made no response, but his wide grin as he pulled himself into the Honda's driver seat displayed his amusement.

And they were off, accelerating smoothly in the vehicle. Sure, it was decent, and it didn't smell odd, but it was no Lamborghini.

But his mind was off that now. Back on the mission. Holly was running out of time, and he needed to save her. From what, he wasn't sure.

The tall buildings of Munich began to draw closer, like some great forest of steel and concrete. Somewhere in there was Holly.

He'd be sure to get her out.

*****

Das Imperium Reserve von München, Munich

Holly dove out of the way as bullets tore up the steel-plated wall on which she'd resided only moments before. The thugs didn't seem to have an idea of where the shielded fairies where hiding exactly, and that technically should have given them the advantage, but with the thieves filling the air with automatic fire, there was barely enough time to avoid becoming riddled with bullets, let alone organize a counterattack. They hadn't seen this coming at all. The humans were bold, that was for sure. They'd expected some fairy armament, but they'd been holding fire until their mission was made clear. They hadn't counted on the enemy detecting their presence, or making their move this early.

She collided with another flailing form, and they both crashed to the ground, smashing a large vase. Fortunately, their impact's sound was masked by gunfire, and the explosion of the pot had apparently been written of as ricochet from the bullets.

The elfin captain glanced down, and by the sound of his groaning (something about _mommy_), Holly gathered that she'd just collided with Corporal Grub Kelp. He remained camouflaged by his suit, a new innovation of Foaly's, but since he was unconscious, he couldn't shield, and the camo wasn't nearly as good as that. Dragging him off behind the counter, Holly rose, noticing in the whirlwind of melee some return fire, short, controlled bursts of Neutrino energy beams. Kelp and his men were putting up a good fight, and they'd already downed the gorilla and two others, by the looks of things. The large one was even smoldering at the collar from where a second burst had been employed to bring him down.

Still, they wouldn't hold out forever, and even as she looked, the leader's gunfire, which drowned out his deranged laughter, clipped a Lieutenant's wing, sending him spinning out of control. The suit kicked in, supplying camouflage, but the smoke issuing from the ruptured wing chassis was more than enough to track him. Taking exaggerated aim with a submachine gun, the robber smiled, and mouthed the words, _Nighty-night._

Holly reacted on instinct, which was to say, broke protocol for the hundredth time in her career. Taking off at a run, she tried to boot up her wings, but got only a rumbling groan in reply. Apparently Grub had taken care of those for her.

With a snarl of frustration, she kept running, and leapt, ramming her shoulder into the small of the burglar's back. He tumbled forward, but altered his course, correcting his fall, turning his momentum into a roll that brought him to his feet and his weapon to his hands. He still couldn't see Holly, but he had a general idea of where she was. Hosing the area with a burst of fire, he swore to himself as his weapon jammed, and glanced down for a moment.

That was all Holly needed to let her boot connect to the underside of his jaw, no mean feat seeing as how he towered some four feet above her. An ominous crack issued from his skull, and he spat blood, but apparently he'd managed to repair his weapon, and as Holly recovered from her jump, falling back for another attack, he let loose another volley.

Most of them missed her, but the last nicked her across the side, punching through muscle like rice paper.

_It's alright. Calm down_, she thought, as she staggered back from the shot. _The magic'll be kicking in any second now._

The only thing that kicked was the thug as he planted a roundhouse squarely on her chest, using her trickling blood as a point of focus. Holly tumbled back, landing in a pile of rubble. Or perhaps her impact had created the pile, but she couldn't tell. Her head was spinning.

_Come on magic._

Nothing. Not a single blue spark. That wasn't possible. She'd learned her lesson after the Fowl Siege. She didn't take a mud bath these days without running hot first. This wasn't right.

Her side tingled strangely, and she doubled over in pain. This was no normal wound. Reaching a gauntleted hand into her open injury, she cried out in agony as she felt for the bullet. Within moments, she'd plucked it free.

The thing reeked of evil. Elfin intuition was never wrong. This was an abomination, it wasn't of nature. A bullet lay in her open hand, crafted from some strange, glowing blue material. Lighter blue runes ran along its edge, and they inspired fear in Holly. What were these things?

Staring at the bullet, her attention soon came to her hand. It wasn't shielded. Only her suit's camouflage kept her safe now, and yet she could feel the magic in her body. Weak, dissipated, but it was there. Why couldn't she heal? Where was her shielding power?

Even as she pondered these questions, the barrel of a gun pressed itself under her chin, forcing her gaze upward. The fearsome Mud Man sneered down at her. "Game over, I'm afraid."

Calling up to the ceiling again, he shouted in a voice so powerful, so commanding, that all combatants simply stopped fighting, and looked on. "Fairies! I have one of your own! Stand down, or he dies!"

Holly's eyebrows creased together. She was so _tired_ of these macho slugs. Just because a girl wore armor-plating didn't mean she was a bloody _man_.

Kelp wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. But even as she thought these things, she knew they were false. She would do it for him. And so would he.

At some unseen signal, all the fairies in the room faded into existence, and were immediately floored by the remaining thugs. Disarmed and captured by a hostile force. Cut off from help because the help didn't even know they were in trouble. This wasn't good.

Not good at all.

And even as they tied them all up and dragged them off into the basement of the building, Holly's head pounded ever harder. Whatever those bullets were, they were suppressing her magic, and nothing could stop or even slow her bleeding. None of the thugs seemed to care that she was redecorating the carpeting with her blood, and even as she bled herself dry, Holly realized it was over. They were finished.

_Help._

Who she called to she didn't know. Or maybe she did. A pale Irish boy, whose mismatched eyes were exactly like her own. This wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

When Artemis Fowl arrived, these thugs would've wished they'd stayed in bed today.

Bet on it.

*****

**Munich, Outside the **_**Das Imperium Reserve von München**_**, Twenty minutes later**

Artemis sat inside a Starbucks, cup of coffee in hand. Across the street, the glass double-doors of the _Imperium_ stood fast, the blinds drawn. The sign read it had closed for the day, and police activity did nothing to indicate otherwise. But Artemis knew better. It had fallen. And the fairies hadn't reported back, either. He had to assume they'd been taken. That _Holly_ had been taken. She could be imprisoned now. Dead. Or dying. And here he was, sipping Columbian black from a Styrofoam cup.

But rushing to her side, while much more daring and exciting, would not do her any good. It would only get them both killed. As much as it pained him, he needed to think this through. Make a plan.

Sadly, Foaly hadn't thought to send them reinforcements. And now that he was in Munich, all channels into Haven were blocked. Right now, he suspected, several undercover fairies in the city were wondering where their favorite television programming had gone.

These thugs were good, he knew that. They'd beaten the human defenses without a hitch, probably having snuck in weapons and material without even activating so much as a smoke detector, much less an alarm. He suspected fairy disruptor technology, but he couldn't be sure.

They'd also beaten the fairy strike team, by the looks of it. All-in-all, the situation seemed rather hopeless.

For any Retrieval fairy, perhaps. For any human soldier, definitely.

But not for Artemis Fowl.

Butler sat opposite him, assessing the situation calmly, looking much more stoic than Artemis felt. Holly was in there. Holly, his friend. His ally. His…

No, there was no time for that. He had to get her out of there, that much he knew.

"Any ideas?" he asked Butler, who casually sipped a mocha to avoid attracting attention.

"Plenty. I think our best bet is to enter at a set window, a few floors up. I doubt they have the personnel to guard every level, even if they've managed to set up an alarm. We'll have at least three minutes of uninterrupted time to work.

Artemis didn't want to think about what it would mean to be _interrupted_, as it would most likely involve something unpleasant involving a fairy stun baton and his more, err, _sensitive_ areas. He rather concentrated himself on the task at hand, and silently he agreed with Butler. They could make their way to the basement, which was undoubtedly where the prisoners were being held. Without windows and cut off from the rest of the building, it was the perfect impromptu prison.

Their next move, in a perfect world, would be to try to enlist some fairy aid, but that would be next to impossible. With the communications down, they had no way of contacting Foaly back at LEP HQ, who still had no idea things were this bad. The blasted centaur was probably snacking on another carrot. Artemis was visited by a sudden desire to ram some unspecified vegetable down his throat, but it was pointless. Foaly had been right in sending only them, but now that things had turned for the worse, they had no backup. It was just him and Butler, facing off against maybe a dozen hostiles. Heavily armed and angry hostiles.

Resting his coffee on the table, he flipped open his computer's lid, and brought up a program of his invention. Just your average everyday security cracker.

Setting the machine to scan for network signals, Artemis quickly discarded all the other laptops in the Internet Café, instead narrowing his search parameters. He'd be looking for a multiple-computer system, running on an in-building server.

He picked up a radio station's system at first, and, after sifting through several others, found what he was looking for: _Das Imperium Reserve_'s network. This was as far as the average computer could get. But his laptop had been packed with the latest from Foaly's Testing Department. He didn't think the centaur would mind a bit of missing technology.

After playing around with the program's new features, he managed to bring up the network's log in page, usually only accessible on-site. He set the machine to run a key-logger virus through the network's memory, bypassing the main screen. Unfortunately, he could only access keys that had been typed in the last few hours, not the security cameras, which was what he was gunning for.

In a few moments, he discerned in the long, unpunctuated list of words, a single pair: _Imperial_1138 and 887d893s. Username and password. Artemis copy-pasted them into the log in box, hoping that the employee's security clearance was adequate for his purposes.

It was. Within moments, he'd brought up live feed from the bank's hundreds of security cameras, scattered throughout the ten-story building.

Selecting BASEMENT from the Camera Feed Index, he was immediately treated to the inside of a black bag. So, these thugs knew what they were doing.

Accessing the fairy technology, he ordered the computer to give a command to the camera, which typically would be impossible. He ran a command signal, ordering the camera to pan down, and bingo: the sack slid right off. Hopefully none of them would notice _that_.

Now, then, to work. The camera scanned the room, detecting several bound and gagged prisoners, all of whom had been ruffed up a bit before being tossed together. They seemed to be… asleep. Well then, the enemy had Sleeper-Deepers.

Butler looked over his shoulder, blocking out the curious glances of any passerby, and muttered, pointing with a large finger, "We'll be needing to use some fairy equipment to avoid ending up like them. I don't see the fairies anywhere. I think we can assume they'll be held in a much more secure location. Probably where their leader is holed up.

"But see here: there's a stairwell entrance _there_. We could make our way through under some cam-foil, supposing they don't have fairy shield-piercers. Perhaps we should consider—" He broke off, an expression of stunned disbelief overriding his typical stoic visage. Artemis followed his gaze, and noticed a small group of thugs enter the room.

They were a tough-looking bunch, their average arm thickness roughly equal to a small tree trunk, and all of them were packing heavy weaponry. Strangely enough, none of them seemed to bother with fairy stun guns. Typical. The bad guys never did.

Their leader, though, he looked different. He was nowhere near as bulky, but his tall, rigid frame suggested some unknown strength. His face was clean-shaven and wore a perpetual cocky expression, as if he owned the place (which, effectively, he did). In his hands he sported a strangely-modified SMG, which, although Artemis couldn't tell due to the lack of color on the camera feed, seemed to be _glowing_.

"I take it you know this man?"

Butler seemed to recover his composure. His hand moved to squeeze a spot just below his shoulder-blade, but Artemis made no comment. "That's right. Damien Gray. Professional assassin, burglar, you name it. I've run into him once or twice."

That sounded like the understatement of the year, but Artemis didn't press him. He didn't want to anger Butler, and if the Eurasian bodyguard didn't think the information was worth sharing, it wasn't vital to the mission.

"Right. We've got at least…" He counted them quickly. "Five enemies. One seems to be using fairy technology, but I can't say for sure."

Butler nodded, grateful to be getting off the subject. "Well, no use waiting. I know this may seem a bit rushed, but I suggest we get to it, Artemis. There isn't much we can do, and we're running on a time table."

Artemis detested the very notion of proceeding without a proper plan, but he knew he had little choice. Holly needed his help _now_, and if that meant storming a fortified position without proper weaponry, facing an unknown and most likely superior enemy, so be it.

*****

_**Das Imperium Reserve von München, Two Hours Later**_

Artemis and Butler stood on a nearby rooftop, concealed by several layers of camfoil. Butler busied himself setting up a zip-line, with which they would enter the building. Artemis carefully calculated the necessary trajectory to enter at the desired velocity and window, all the while distracted by thoughts of his imprisoned friends.

Holly, Kelp, Grub. Well, maybe not Grub.

Their names were a sort of mantra inside his head, giving him focus, giving him resolve. He _would_ rescue his friends. He had to.

Butler managed to coax a frightening spring-loaded sound from the launcher, and inserted a fairy harpoon tip. Excellent for piercing steel and locking in place. The cable that connected the head to the body was of the same material as a Moonbelt, so they needn't worry about their combined weight, seeing as how they couldn't afford to go over one at a time.

Without waiting for confirmation, he shouldered the launcher, and inquired, "Where do you want it?"

Glancing up from his contemplation, Artemis gestured at a choice window exactly one story below them. Butler nodded, and pulled the trigger, releasing a gas powered spring barrel chamber that propelled the harpoon at speeds exceeding two hundred KPH. The head impacted on the steel wall, punching a clean hole through it, and stuck itself in place. The bodyguard tossed Artemis a body rig so that he could connect himself to the line, and without another word, hooked up his own.

He looked fairly ludicrous, as if a troll had attempted to hang him in its closet (although, in all fairness to trolls, they weren't that stupid). Kicking off from the rooftop, he zipped down the line without a sound, fairy microfibers reducing the friction to a fraction of the norm.

He alighted on a narrow windowsill, and proceeded to cut the glass with a fairy handheld laser. As he worked, Artemis hooked himself up.

Jumping from a four-story structure wasn't his idea of heroism, more like suicide, but he had no choice. He employed a stress-relieving technique Butler had taught him years before, picturing a calming thought and keeping it focused in his mind's eye.

Closing his real one's didn't hurt, either.

Strangely enough, what he saw was a pair of mismatched eyes gazing at him with an expression of… something. Whatever it was, he wasn't that familiar with it. Two eyes: one blue, one hazel.

Kicking off as Butler had, he shot along the one-story gradient, slamming into Butler like an oversized coat pushed aside into another inside a troll's wardrobe. As he hung there, pondering why trolls or their wardrobes were occurring to him at this particular juncture, Butler succeeded in breaching the two-inch-thick glass, and clambered in. Undoubtedly, several silent alarms had gone off, but Artemis was taking the gamble that the enemy didn't own the bank's computers just yet, so that their entrance might go unnoticed.

Artemis struggled through the circular hole after his bodyguard, with some assistance from the latter. As they both stood there in the hallway, Artemis comprehended at last just how half-baked their scheme was. Here they were, armed only with standard fairy equipment, which their enemy could match, if not beat, outnumbered at least three-to-one, and Artemis wasn't even a good fighter. No, the odds were stacked against them indeed.

But he just thought about those eyes, and he knew what he had to do.

"Come on, Butler," he called, making his way down the hallway for a stairwell at the far end. He didn't know where it led for sure, but he had a general idea.

_I'm on my way, Holly,_ he thought as they descended the stairwell, feet clanging noisily on the steel steps. _I'm on my way._


	9. Chapter 9: Escape

Das Imperium Reserve von München, Munich

Artemis and Butler took off from the stairwell's bottom, finding themselves on what Artemis figured was the third floor, although he'd been a bit preoccupied on the stairs to keep track. Holly's eyes kept staring at him in his mind's eye. He had to find her.

They ran past several empty offices, and as they went along Artemis understood the true genius of the plan. Today was a holiday. What holiday he couldn't remember, but the bank would've been running on a skeleton crew. Easy to overpower. And any stragglers could've been casually hunted down.

Butler thundered along behind, and although he could have easily overtaken his young charge, he instead busied himself covering their rear with his trusty Sig Sauer. Fairy weapons or not, he preferred operating with the sure thing.

They bolted down corridors and stairs, pausing every so often to check an office or meeting room. Most remained untouched, but some showed signs of struggle. Apparently the citizens of Munich had put up a fight. Artemis could guess who'd won.

This method of operation proceeded for several minutes, as they sacrificed stealth for speed. Eventually, after ducking into a stairwell to avoid a passing patrol, they entered the main lobby. It was deserted, strangely enough. The walls and floor showed signs of blaster scorching, and bullet holes pockmarked an overturned table where several fairies must have taken shelter. Alarmingly, blood had been splattered on a back wall. That meant someone was injured. Or dead.

_Stop it. Just think straight. Holly needs you._

Forcing himself to focus, Artemis turned to Butler, who had just finished picking his way through a mound of wreckage. The Irish youth gestured about, asking, "Any idea how they managed to take out the _entire_ team?"

Butler cast a glance about the area, and continued to check doorways as he spoke. "Surprise. The fairies got a little bit cocky, I guess. They managed to put up a bit of a fight, I think. But in the end they must've been dragged off to the base—_urghhh!_"

Butler had been making his way behind the countertop, the registers having been emptied hurriedly. Spare marks papered the carpeting. As the Eurasian bodyguard had been guessing what had happened to the fairies, he'd suddenly fallen out of sight behind the teller's desk.

"Butler!" Artemis took off to assist his bodyguard, although if anything had been strong managed to bring down Butler, Artemis doubted he could do anything to help.

But Butler appeared alright, having recovered from his fall. The bodyguard wasn't known for a lack of coordination, and surely enough, the source of his tumble was soon revealed.

Artemis knelt by a hazy distortion in the carpeting, and prodded it cautiously with his Armani shoe. It groaned in response, and he took a step back. Butler immediately trained his weapon on it, although Artemis had a fairly good guess as to what it might be. Who else could shield, or possess shielding technology, other than a fairy? It might be Trouble Kelp, or Holly, someone who could help them free the others. Even if it was a standard-issue fairy grunt, he'd still be more help than no one, right?  
But Artemis soon found himself eating his own words. Because even as they gazed on, the fairy came into consciousness, and his shielding flickered off.

"Where am I? What's going— oh no! Robbers! Mommy, help!"

*****

Ten Minutes Later

They'd managed to make their way along the east block, winding their way through a labyrinth of offices and cubicles, which was an impressive feat, not because of the frequent enemy patrols or the desperation of their situation, but rather that they'd managed to pass the time without killing Grub.

"…and then Trouble said, 'Grub, I think you've got the makings of a mediocre officer. Maybe.' Can you believe that? And he didn't even make it through that firefight!"

Butler ground his teeth as he spoke. "Didn't you say that Holly saved you?"

Grub seemed to deflate a bit, but recovered beautifully. "Did I say that? It was more like she dragged me off the battlefield after I'd taken down a few of the enemy. What can I say? Even the best get hit."

Artemis hadn't been paying attention at all, but the mention of Holly's name brought him out of his reprieve somewhat. "If you say so, Corporal. Tell me, can you give us an estimate of their remaining men?"

But Grub was already off on another story, so distorted that it took Artemis a few minutes to realize that he was talking about the B'Wa Kell rebellion. Only Grub could take solid fact and twist it around so much that it sounded like he'd single-handedly brought down Koboi and Cudgeon himself, while carrying Butler, Holly, and Artemis on his back.

Shaking his head, Artemis noticed something odd. They'd entered a long hallway, punctuated every few feet by an office door. About twenty feet away, a door stood ajar. A conversation could be heard, faintly, but it was unintelligible.

Butler heard it, too, but it took him a moment longer due to the fact that he'd been trying to tune out Grub. Approaching it cautiously, he extracted one of the pieces of fairy hardware Foaly had equipped them with: a noise amplifier. "It'll make a dwarf's fart ten miles away sound clear as day, even though I know a few dwarves that you wouldn't need the amplifier to hear."

Butler had no intention on eavesdropping on flatulent dwarves, instead pressing his ear, device held to it, against a wall. Instantly, the conversation was understandable.

[_the following audio recording was presented before the Fairy Council immediately following the Roth affair, in session 33.24.91_]

GRAY: [voice confirmed by witnesses and through dialogue analysis] …the yield has totaled over eighty-three million marks, my lord. We've taken prisoners, both human and fairy. Suggest that we begin moving out? A few of my men were badly hit. Karl is still out cold from that Neutrino blast.

ROTH: [assumed, though not proven] _Your men's health doesn't not concern me, general. What is the status of the fairy prisoners?_

GRAY: They're all alive. We had to ruff up a few when they tried to _mesmerize_ us. Hans is still doing chicken impersonations. I don't think he reacted well to it.

ROTH: _What are the names of the officers?_

GRAY: We've got a Commander Kelp and a Lieutenant Birch. They've tried to negotiate, but we showed them. I've got their mug shots right here.

ROTH: _What about majors? Captains?_

GRAY: We've got one [pause] Holly Short. I've got a shot of her, too. I've committed her and the other officer's faces to memory, so I'll know if they escape. She took quite a bit to subdue.

ROTH: [aside] _Yes, I would imagine._

GRAY: What was that, sir?

ROTH: _Nothing. What is her medical status?_

GRAY: Injured.

ROTH: _Do you expect she will she survive?_

GRAY: [pause] Yes. [voice recognition patterns detect lying]

ROTH: _I hope so, Gray. For your sake. Now, have you secured the building?_

GRAY: Affirmative. No one's getting in or out.

ROTH: _I fear you have a potent enemy on the premises. I have it on… reliable information._

GRAY: But we've got the first five floors covered. I've set up systematic sweeps, and the prisoners—

ROTH: _That is irrelevant! Do you own the bank's video surveillance yet?_

GRAY: [hesitant pause] Negative.

ROTH: _Then you cannot be sure. Double your patrols, general. I don't want anyone getting into that basement._

GRAY: I'll have to recall floors three through five!

ROTH: [threatening voice patterns] _Are you questioning me, general, a term I use in a very _temporary_ sense?_

GRAY: [fearful stuttering] My… my lord, of… c-course not. I only was voicing my concern—

ROTH: _Don't waste my time with your pathetic ideas, general. Do as I command. Once you have captured any interlopers, take five fairy hostages, including the officers, and make for _The Kraken_. It will depart from Helsinki in two days' time._

GRAY: [eager tones] Is… is the shipment ready, my lord? Will we have our payment?

ROTH: _Yes, yes. You'll have your payment. Just be there or it will depart without you._

GRAY: Thank you, my lord. My lord… if I may ask, how will I know the intruders when I see them? How will I tell them apart from, say, a stray prisoner?

[sounds of movement from the other end of the broadcast]

GRAY: But— why, that's incredible! You have—

ROTH: _Repeat that to no one, general._

GRAY: Yes… yes, master. Goodbye.

ROTH: _Don't fail me, general._

[_transmission ends_]

Butler stood at the wall for an extra two seconds, which was two seconds more than they could afford. As Gray approached the door, Butler gestured for Artemis and Grub to take off and make for the basement. They did so without hesitation.

Butler didn't have time to join them. He didn't need it. He had no intention of running. This was personal.

Gray emerged from the room looking weary, yet excited. His pale, shining face held the same cocky grin that Butler remembered so well. Much to his satisfaction, it was wiped away immediately at the sight of him. Gray merely stared in open-mouthed silence, although his gaze was not the typical, please-don't-let-the-gorilla-eat-me sort of thing he was used to, it was an I-can't-believe-you're-still-alive sort of stare.

But he recovered quickly, falling into a jiu-jitsu combat stance, which Butler mirrored perfectly.

"I didn't think you'd come back. Guess the boss was right, after all. But wait," his expression grew contemplative. "Then why did he… no. I'll think about that later. After I've killed you!"

Before he'd even finished his sentence, Butler was on him, and, before he'd even had time to do more than recoil, Butler was gone.

Gray swore, and brought a walkie-talkie to his lips, taking off down the hallway in pursuit of the enormous Eurasian, who, although it was no accident, had fled exactly opposite the direction Artemis and Grub had taken.

"All units, converge on the first floor, eastern block! Basement guard, stay where you are!"

But Gray never caught up with Butler. All he found was a few shattered doorways and a gibbering thug, rolling back and forth across the floor, muttering something about _troll-men_.

_Well then, Butler, it seems you haven't lost your touch._

*****

**Basement Stairwell**

Artemis and Grub took off down the stairwell, trying to make as little noise as possible, although it was pointless. The basement was alive with clamor, as thugs ran about, screaming about intruders.

Artemis asked Grub for a sheet of camfoil, and, after the corporal spent several critical seconds fumbling uselessly with his utility belt, Artemis took it himself.

Wrapping himself in it as best he could, he whispered to Grub, "Shield, Corporal. Take your weapon, and stun as many as you can. I'll try to find the prisoners. Remember, Grub, we're counting on you."

_Not exactly a reassuring idea,_ thought both of them.

Artemis snuck as quietly as he could down the remainder of the stairs, careful to avoid any passing thugs. The camfoil would provide him basic camouflage, but it wouldn't hold up under scrutiny.

He picked his way amongst the unconscious bodies of bank employees and citizens, searching for some sign of the fairies.

After a moment, he spotted them. There, inside the maintenance office. Just as a mammoth of a robber emerged, Artemis snuck in.

Bound, blindfolded, and gagged, the fairy strike team seemed to be in a tight spot. Several soldiers were unconscious, and Kelp was bleeding from a blow to the head. Artemis approached and ungagged him. He raised his blindfolded eyes to where Artemis crouched before him.

"You D'Arviting thugs, when I get out of here, I'm going to take my stun baton and shove it up your—"

"Calm yourself, Commander. We don't have much time.

Kelp swayed slightly, and for the first time Artemis noticed the commander sounded a little punch-drunk. Apparently those blows were more serious than they seemed. Kelp's speech was slightly slurred as he answered, "Oh, thank the gods, it's Fowl, come to save us." Artemis had to admire the commander: even when suffering from moderate head trauma, he still found it in himself to summon up some sarcasm.

"Yes, yes. You can thank me later. Now, where's Holly?"

He hadn't meant for it to sound so direct, but Kelp was too dazed to notice. "She's over there. They hit her pretty bad. They shot one of my best officers, the Mud Men _slime!_"

Artemis quickly gagged Kelp again to keep him from alerting the thugs, but he wasn't really consciously thinking about it. Holly was hit? How badly?

He quickly glanced around, and saw her, laying with her back to a stack of cardboard boxes. The fluorescent lights above flickered, adding a menacing feel to the moment as Artemis approached. Even in that unsure lighting, he could tell she was in trouble. Her side was bleeding heavily, and her magic wasn't healing anything.

Rushing to her, he quickly took her pulse and tested her for shock, as Butler had taught him to do in emergency situations. Her pupils were irregular, and she shook convulsively. Laying her flat on the ground, he brushed a lock of auburn hair from her face, which was deathly white. She glanced up at him. Her voice was shaky as she spoke. "Fowl? Is that you?"

His blood was like ice. "That's right, Holly. Now lay down, and relax. I'm going to see if someone can heal you."

She swallowed loudly before responding. "No good. There's something cursed about those bullets, Artemis. I can't heal. Magic won't help."

_Then maybe science will,_ he thought to himself, but he lacked the proper medical tools to perform the necessary field surgery to keep Holly from slipping into shock. "Just stay with me, Holly, and I'll get someone to help."

She nodded fiercely, and Artemis silently praised her for her strength, even now. Then he turned to the other prisoners, and began untying them. He had only minutes, he knew, before that thug returned.

One by one the fairies rose, some rather battered, clutching piping for support, others, relatively unharmed, who immediately proceeded to assist Artemis in freeing up the others. Eventually, all those who could walk were either carrying those who couldn't or getting ready to fight.

They positioned themselves on either side of the door, and waited. Within seconds, the mammoth-man returned, and they were all over him. It was a sight to see: a dozen fairies clambering over the colossal giant, hitting him with helmets, fists, anything they could lay on him. He gave a great roar, and then tumbled to the ground. It took several more seconds to pry free a few trapped sprites from beneath his bulky mass, then they relieved him of his weaponry, which consisted of several human handguns and two fairy pistols. Kelp was quick to claim a pistol for himself, insisting it was his duty, but when he swayed dangerously and loosed a stray blast, it was generally agreed upon that he should be considered one of the walking wounded.

Artemis collected medical supplies from Holly's fellow officers, but since fairies relied mostly on their magic to aid them, it was a paltry sum. Still, he decided that they needed to get out first before he could start working on Holly, because once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

They emerged quietly, several fairies taking flanking positions, sprites hovering up above. They were ready now, sure that the robbers wouldn't be able to beat them twice. Several of the more optimistic elves chatted about what they were going to do to them involving several rolls of masking tape and a juvenile troll. But it was unnecessary, because all they found upon inspection was a pile of unconscious mercenaries, stripped of their weapons and bound with wire stripped from an overhead panel.

Standing over them was Grub Kelp, and the looks of astonishment the other LEP members gave him was nothing like the one he now wore on his face.

*****

_**Imperium**_** Lobby**

They worked their way upward, neutralizing any stray enemies, and making for the main lobby. Within minutes, they'd arrived, but Artemis, who busied himself with carrying Holly, felt that the elfin captain couldn't afford those scant moments.

It was deserted, and immediately the strike force secured the area, preparing an exit under camfoil for the wounded. But even as Artemis began to sterilize Holly's wound, and applied pressure to staunch the bleeding, noise emanated from the stairwell opposite their location.

Butler emerged, making a mad dash for their group, and not far behind him, ran Gray. The mercenary was alone, and Butler worked to reload his weapon. Apparently the others wouldn't be joining them.

The fairies turned to face them, but Butler screamed, "No! He's mine!" The bodyguard about-faced, leveling his Sig Sauer, staring down the barrel at Gray, who likewise leveled his SMG. Neither fired, only stood there, staring each other down.

Gray laughed arrogantly, saying, "So, Butler, now you will finally face me. Tell me, why have you come here, to stop me? I wouldn't have guessed you knew the fairies existed. After all, you weren't that open-minded at the Academy."

_Academy?_ Thought Artemis, and it came to him: Madame Ko's Academy. That was why Butler knew Gray, and why he'd squeezed his shoulder when he saw for the first time in the café. That was where he'd been branded with the blue diamond tattoo, and it occurred to Artemis that Gray, too, must have one.

"You're a fool, Gray. I thought you'd have had enough sense not to get mixed up in this. Then again, you never did." This wasn't macho bravado. It was true anger, true hatred, years of repressed feelings finally able to vent on their source. "You have no right to speak of the Academy. You disgraced us."

Gray's face twisted into an ugly leer. "I am ten times the warrior you are, Domovoi!"

That struck Artemis as odd. Butler only shared his name with those he trusted and cared for, and even Artemis hadn't been privy to that information until a few years ago.

"You betrayed us!"

Gray spun about, and for a moment Artemis thought he was going to fire. Apparently, so did the fairies, who raised their weapons expectantly. But all Gray did was expose his right shoulder, upon which was branded a blue diamond. But this one was different from Butler's. The likeness of a skull had been superimposed onto it. The blue diamond was a prize for any bodyguard, and Artemis could guess that Gray had desecrated it to symbolize his separation from the Academy.

"I survived, Domovoi! We were taught to protect, and I decided that it wasn't for me. You know me, and don't you say you didn't feel it too. Ko was weak. She thought only of defense and protection of the principal! I decided I wouldn't fight for some fool! I would fight for myself!"

Butler's face was completely alien to Artemis. It was cold, yet furious. His eyes shone with a malice he'd never seen there before. He sensed the tension rising to the inevitable breaking point.

"You took your teachings and used them to murder, you monster!"

Gray laughed again, and raised a hand in defiance. "I do what I must."

As one, at some unconscious signal, both men fired, and both men broke for cover. One of them didn't make it.

Butler rose shakily from his crouching position, and converged on Gray's location. The mercenary's chest was riddled with bullets, and his blood leaked from his wounds. Yet his face was full of demented glee. He made a grasp for his discarded weapon, but Butler kicked it away.

The weapon glowed menacingly, and several fairies shifted uncomfortably.

Gray, sensing defeat, merely chuckled. Butler stared down at him, weapon slack in his hand. The mercenary spoke with difficulty. "Kill me then. I know you want to."

Butler's grip tightened so suddenly his knuckled turned white. "I would certainly like to."

Gray glanced around. "I've known you since you were a boy, Domovoi. You're a good guy, through and through. Me? I think I was, a long time ago." Strangely enough, his expression softened. "But now you can't win. The master will destroy you, and all the humans."

It wasn't a threat. Amazingly, it was a warning.

"You can still fix things, Damien. Tell us, tell us what they're planning." Butler seemed to gaze at something no one else could see. A memory. His face was filled with sadness, and remorse. He had once cared for this man. Alarmingly enough, he still did.

The man actually seemed to consider it, but in the end shook his head. "I can't. My boss will…"

"You're dying already."

He laughed. "You always were very blunt. Very well, I'll tell you: there's a shipment of those bullets on a ship leaving Helsinki in two days. _The Kraken_. I was supposed to go collect my payment there. My boss wants to fight the fairies with those things, so he can finish off the humans."

Butler nodded, and the fairies muttered amongst themselves. "Any idea why?"

Here some of Gray's old cockiness returned. "One or two."

"Tell me, Damien."

"It would only cause you pain."

Butler seemed taken aback by that rebuttal, and merely nodded. Gray's eyes wandered, and he glanced at Artemis and Holly. His eyes widened. "Tell me, boy, is that Captain Short?"

Artemis glanced up from his work, and stared at Gray with an expression of intense dislike. "You won't touch her."

And suddenly Gray's face lit up with glee. "Oh-ho! This is just too _precious_! You— no. I won't say. Forgive me, Butler, but it will do you no good to understand. And this little secret is one I'll take to the grave."

Feeling immensely confused, Artemis could only look on as Butler kneeled over Gray for the last time. Gray wanted to die, and Butler seemed to desire to honor that request. Perhaps out of pity? Affection?

Artemis tried to focus on his work, and already Holly's wound seemed less dire. Even as he began to suture Holly's skin together (a temporary procedure, until real medical attention could be afforded), Gray convulsed violently, coughing. He cast a final glance at Butler, then stared at Artemis and Holly. With a final chuckle, he stiffened, and lay still.


	10. Chapter 10: Recovery and Ruin

**LEP Headquarters, Five Hours Later, Medical Wing**

Doctor Terrence Sedge was having a strange day, that was for sure. For one thing, that anomalous power outage had wrecked absolute havoc on the medical bay, shutting down critical systems and machinery. If not for the backup power, things could very well have ended in tragedy.

The rest of the day had been spent tending to standard-issue wounds inflicted on LEP members in the line of duty (usually the results of botched locker-room bets), and cataloging his personal journal, as he frequently did. Might make a good book someday. Or so he kept telling himself.

Doctor Sedge had encountered another curiosity that day when he tuned into PPTV in the doctors' lounge at lunch hour. He picked up a news report concerning human activities, a subject that had been rising in frequency at an alarming rate. The first time humans had earned themselves a place on live PPTV airtime was when the first man on the moon had discovered a fairy resort. That had been a nightmare. Mind-wipes, zero-gravity chases, and a crashed moon rover. Terrence still remembered that day.

Today, however, it seemed man was suffering. While this didn't bother Terrence unduly, the following information served to perplex him. An earthquake of enormous proportions had rocked the foundations of the human city of San Francisco several hours ago. It had been so large that the human's Richter scale didn't posses a large enough number to record it. Severe infrastructural damage, casualty reports skyrocketing, it was a full-blown disaster. And in a major population center. One could almost guess it had been deliberate, but the very notion was preposterous. Who could control an earthquake?

No, Doctor Sedge didn't worry himself with that information. He had other things to concentrate on. Because now, instead of the usual steady flow of minor injuries, he was getting flooded by a large amount of wounded LEP Retrieval boys.

That in itself was strange. Retrieval didn't report that many casualties, at least not in such a high concentration, but Sedge simply did his job, and treated them well. After he'd finished up the main tasks, which had included turning away Corporal Kelp after his eighth request for a Bioscan, insisting he'd broken something, Terrence brought his attention to the most pressing case. Other doctors had been tending to Captain Holly Short, and had made some progress, but hadn't really known what to make of her situation. She had suffered a minor wound to her side, which, apart from ruining her jumpsuit, shouldn't have given her due pause. But her magic, as well as that of all medics who laid hands on her, simply couldn't heal her wounds.

Upon entering the surgery, he received another shock for the day as he noticed a human boy, perhaps fifteen, although Terrence could never really tell for sure (seeing as he'd flunked his human physiology class at University), sitting by the captain's side. Sedge was far from a prejudiced elf, and held no grudge against humans, but it still gave his aging heart a nasty jolt to see one _sitting in his surgery_. After a moment's confusion, he set about on the most tactful course of action: he completely ignored the human.

The captain remained unconscious on an examination table, her pretty young face illuminated by the stark lighting of the medical chamber. The human gazed at her with a fondness that intrigued Terrence, but he had other matters to attend to, and if LEP command was okay with the human, he was too.

Bustling about, readying his surgical gloves, he proceeded to examine Short's wound, which had been mended physically as best it could by nonmagical materials. No, it was Sedge's job to discern what the source of the magic-suppressant was. But after half an hour of careful examination, he was forced to conclude that they were dealing with a curse, and a powerful one at that. He recognized the wound as being inflicted by a human bullet, but those didn't have magical properties, did they?

As if he'd heard his thoughts, the boy spoke up. "Cursed, yes, I thought as much. I tried to staunch the bleeding, and the sutures held, but it seems to be weakening Holly."

Now, Sedge was a very open-minded fairy, so he decided it best to acknowledge the human. "You performed the field surgery? I was unaware humans were qualified to do so. Or even understood our anatomy at all."

The boy smiled, a sort of unnerving vampire's-smile. His deep blue eyes seemed to stare into Terrence's soul. "Doctor, I consider myself highly accomplished in fairy medicine, having gone through several courses under the pseudonym Julius Mulch."

Terrence was thunderstruck, but shook this off, going on, "Then you can tell me what caused this wound?"

Artemis nodded. "Cursed bullets. We don't know for sure, but I've hypothesized that they must be infused with animal fat of some sort. I'm surprised the LEP haven't briefed you on it already."

Sedge flushed. "Yes, well, I'm sure they've got more important matters to attend to. Come now, I don't have time for this. Captain Short will recover, and I think I can give her an infusion of magic, twice an hour, until the curse is overpowered. They can only absorb so much magic before they are overloaded, you know." He swelled with pride, happy to know something that this irritating human didn't.

"Yes, I am aware," chuckled Artemis. "I wrote an article on curses after encountering the cursed sword of one Leon Abbot a few years ago. Very fascinating."

Terrence went back to his work without another word, brow creased and lips pursed in silent disapproval.

Yes, this was turning out to be a _very_ strange day.

*****

**Ten Hours Later**

It felt like a troll had mistaken her for a park bench, and had sat on her. Then again, trolls usually preferred to smash park benches, so she supposed she ought to be grateful.

Her memory was foggy, the last thing on her mind being something about a trap. Yes, that was it. A trap. But who set it?

For a moment, her old instincts screamed _Fowl!_, but she knew this wasn't true. After all, Artemis hadn't been her enemy for almost four years now.

Holly tried to open her eyes, and was rewarded with a stinging pain in both of them. High-voltage fluorescent lights beat down on her, and she forced herself to squint. A dull, continuous humming sound informed her that some machinery was running, and the sharp pain in her arm told her that she'd been stuck with an IV.

But there was another sensation, besides the pain in her arm or the brightness of the room, the cold of the examination table or the din of machinery. A gentle pressure on one hand, not crushing her fingers, but fondling them, never letting go.

She heard voices. "Orderly, get me more medical gel. We'll pack off this wound and she should be good to go," instructed the first voice, speaking in an unrecognizable accent. It must've been a fairy. With their gift of tongues, fairies' speech often sounded like a bit of every dialect, instead of just one or two.

Holly discerned the sound of rubber-soled shoes squeaking away, and assumed the aide must have set off on his task. The voice, which must have belonged to a doctor, sighed, then addressed another. Holly hazarded another guess: whoever he spoke to must be another lab technician, checking her pulse or something. That would explain the grasp on her hand.

"Well, then, it seems that the procedure worked. Your friend here will make a full recovery, I expect. She'll need to complete the Ritual to fully purge the curse from her body, and she'll still suffer from a few side effects for a few days. I'm prescribing bed rest for at least a week." He paused, and scribbled something on a sheet of flimsy, his pen making scratching noises as it worked. "Tell me, human, just how do you know Captain Short?"

_Human?_ thought Holly, then, _Artemis!_

She didn't know what she was feeling. Artemis had come to stay with her! Had already been working with the doctor! She couldn't tell if she was angry at the meddling Mud Boy, embarrassed at her friend, or… touched?

Then it came to her: Artemis was _holding her hand._

Immediately she tried to write it off as merely moral support, but there was something in the way he held it, reverently, almost compassionately. All of this Holly sensed from his touch. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but not from fear, from something else, equally dangerous. Fairy intuition was never wrong.

Artemis seemed to realize the doctor had picked up on this as well, and immediately slackened his grasp. Holly felt part-relieved, part-disappointed.

"Ah, yes. You could say we've been good friends for a few years now."

Silence hung thick in the room for a second, as neither party really bought this explanation, but the uncomfortable atmosphere was broken when the orderly returned. By now Holly's eyes had adjusted to the harsh light, and she stirred slightly to get a better look at things.

"Doctor Sedge, she's awake!"

She could dimly see the surgeon wave the assistant away. "Yes, yes, Finch. Give me that gel. That's the ticket."

Holly felt a surgical glove expose her mending wound and press a glob of icy gelatinous ooze to it. Mild pain and excruciating cold jolted her into complete consciousness, and the two medical personnel were quick to hold her down. "Relax, captain, all is under control," assured the doctor. His face was kind, but weary, as if it had seen much suffering. His brow, creased in concern, relaxed slightly when she complied. "There's a good lady. Just rest, and we'll be back to check up on you in a moment. Now, if you will please, Finch, come with me. I need you to help me see to the Commander. He's still recovering from his head wound. Minor concussion. The magic's mended most of it, but he's still disoriented."

Holly watched as they both left, swinging the door shut behind them. Casting her glance about, she noted the stark white walls and the transparent viewing window, currently opaque for privacy. The machinery she'd heard earlier hummed from their wall sockets, recording her heart rate and brain activity. In short, she looked everywhere but at the pale Irish youth sitting in a corner, trying not to be seen.

Holly was willing to comply. Even in her peripheral vision she saw his face was flushed with abashment, and by the heat of her own cheeks she realized she must be, too. Eventually, however, she knew she had to talk to him.

Nodding curtly to Artemis, she stated mildly, "Nice to see you're in one piece."

Artemis glanced up from his shoes, which, up until now, he had been taking an intense interest in. With a weak smile, he looked directly at her, and responded. "You too. The good doctor knows what he's doing. You were pretty bad for a while there."

Holly felt her blush deepen, but shook her head to distract herself. Artemis had been there the whole time. He'd probably offered the surgeon advice, maybe even worked on her _himself_. For some alarming reason, that made Holly tingle all over, but maybe it was just the medication. At least, she hoped it was.

After a moment, she realized Artemis was waiting for her response, and muttered, "What happened to Gray? And the robbers?"

Artemis seemed to grow very, very tired. More tired than any person his age should look. "Gray's dead, but we've rounded up the other thugs. They made off with almost one hundred million, but they made the real steal at the museum. Two hundred and fifty million marks in priceless art. Gone." This seemed to hit him worse than anything. After a moment, he went on. "None of the prisoners had any idea who their employer was. Gray's secret died with him. But we suspect, obviously, that whoever they are, they planned the raid on my manor. I've managed to contact my family, and they're giving the area a wide berth. My mother will come up with some excuse to stay away. Arrange a skiing trip or something."

Holly remembered with a jolt that Artemis had told his mother all about his adventures. The kidnapping, the rebellion, the Cube, Julius's death, everything. Well, at least she _hoped_ not everything.

She'd just been trying to delicately phrase a way to find out if Artemis had spilled the acorns to his mom about that little incident in Rathdown Park, when he rose, and approached her.

Kneeling by her side, he began to check her stitches, making sure they were in place. "Forgive me, Holly, but Doctor Sedge asked that I check up on you from time to time before he returned."

Holly said nothing, and even managed to keep a straight face, her voice completely deadpan as she answered, "Roger, Arty."

His hands fumbled as she mentioned his mother's pet name for him, a name Holly herself had taken to adopting in her secret moments, but rarely before others, especially not Artemis himself. His fingers brushed against her soft skin, and she winced in embarrassment, afraid of… what? There wasn't anything to be worried about, was there?

But try all she might, Holly couldn't regulate her heartbeat, which had just skyrocketed. The machine whined with an incessant _deet-deet-deet-deet_, mimicking her agitated patterns. Adrenaline pumped through her system, and if she had any magic left, she knew it would be crackling about her in excitement. What was happening to her? She'd never felt this way before…

Except for once. In the cage of a half-ton gorilla.

Artemis, mistaking her wince and accelerated heart rate as a medical reaction, hastily inquired, "Are you okay, Holly? Did I do something wrong?"

There was real alarm in his voice, real concern. Somehow that struck her as sweet. Holly realized she needed to write it off as pain to avoid suspicion, but before she had time to think, her subconscious answered, "No."

That word hung on the air for several seconds, ringing in both their ears. Why had she said no? Was it because Artemis hadn't caused her pain, or because… because it had felt _right_?

_No!_ She mentally slapped herself. He was just a human. Just a human.

Still, tentatively, almost against her will, her eyes traveled to his, and for a moment they locked. Perhaps they both conveyed some unacknowledged truth, but before either of them could muster the courage to say anything, all the power in the building shut down with a loud _whirrrrr_.

Immediately, the moment was lost, and Holly felt a momentary pang of frustration, quickly submerged beneath her conscious refusal to recognize it, and instead focused herself on the situation at hand. She tried to rise, and Artemis gently, but firmly, pushed her back down. "Relax. I'm going to go assess the damage."

But before he could go thirty feet into the hall, or even before Holly managed to dismiss her confusing feelings of excitement at Artemis's touch, the power returned as quickly as it had vanished. Computer readouts winked into existence, and the in-room television monitor flicked on, unbidden, no doubt a side-effect of the reboot.

A PPTV news channel played. The familiar face of Abelia Rookwood gazed down at her, the reporter's right eye still displaying a rather brilliant black bruise, masked somewhat ineffectively by a layer of makeup.

"We're on? We're on," the reporter stated, obviously just as dislocated by the outage as everyone else. "This is Abelia Rookwood, reporting live from PPTV News Station. It seems another power outage has occurred, a temporary side-effect of the new energy plant's installation. Another major power line was re-routed, but for security reasons, Bismuth Engineering cannot give us warning as to when the next inevitable outage will occur."

At this point Artemis returned, his mismatched eyes fixed attentively on the report. Rookwood went on.

"At a press conference earlier today, Bismuth's chief spokesperson stated the installation is making enormous progress, and that the fairy people can expect to be rid of these outages, and other problems, by this time next week. Complete installation will take time. For those of us who've been living on the moon for the past few months, the plant towers over two thousand feet high, and will exponentially increase output of energy into our city.

"Only the outer shell will be accessible to the public and civilian workers, while the inner one houses executive facilities, and the final chamber hosts, reportedly, a mass shield from the lethal levels of radiation inside. Only one quadruple-sealed damper hatch allows access to the core, which cannot be entered unless the system has completely powered down for three days, allowing radiation to die down. According to interviews conducted with radiology experts, even these precautions will still require any maintenance personnel to wear super-advanced radsuits. It has been said that—"

Suddenly, Rookwood pressed a hand to her ear, as incoming information alerted her to a new report. "We're going to have to cut this report short to cut to some breaking news. Jandus Fern will tell us more."

The screen flashed to another news anchor, who nodded concisely and began, his deep voice slow and methodical, "Thank you, Abelia. It seems for the second time today, catastrophe has rocked the human world. A tsunami of immense proportions devastated the city of Tokyo, Japan, in the Pacific Ocean. We're not exactly sure of casualty figures, as our human information monitoring services can intercept their transmissions only so fast. Suffice it to say, folks, that this is _not_ a lucky day for the humans. On another note, rumors abound that a fairy strike team had been dispatched to Munich, Germany, to put down a security threat. The exact details haven't been disclosed, but our source comes from inside the LEP itself."

Artemis and Holly both automatically muttered, "Grub."

For the next few minutes further reports went on, before the hour was up and PPTV cut to scheduled programming. Still, Artemis's head was spinning. Terrence had told him about the earthquake in San Francisco, which had struck Artemis as a tragedy. The engineering feats achieved on the Golden Gate Bridge had been marvelous, but, perhaps, when they rebuilt the city would be more receptive to his proposed earthquake-reinforcement modifications…

_Enough about that. Think! Two natural disasters in about a day? Two major population centers utterly devastated? What could this mean?_

He'd been formulating possible explanations when an LEP officer entered the room, speaking to Holly as she reclined, also brooding over recent events, on her examination table.

"Captain, the Commander needs you back at Headquarters ASAP. As soon as you're stitched up, get to the Meeting Room."

"Can you tell us what it's for?" Artemis inquired, curious as to Kelp's next move.

The policeman glanced nervously at Artemis, who, as every little fairy child had learned from their parents for the past four years, was a very, very bad Mud Man. "Sorry, human, but that's classified. Suit up and meet us there. You're wanted, too."

Artemis nodded, and spoke to Holly as the officer retreated. "Can you make it?"

Flexing her side experimentally, she nodded, and rose slowly. Artemis helped her to her feet, and she experienced a moment of inexplicable excitement. Drowning it in a sea of thoughts and distractions, she grunted, "Come on, Mud Boy. We've got work to do."


	11. Chapter 11: Plan of Attack

**LEP Headquarters, Haven City, Meeting Room, Twenty-three minutes later**

Commander Kelp sat in a form-fitting, coil-heated, elevated chair, but right now he didn't really care for these comforts, he never really had. He had always preferred more simplistic furniture, although the neck support was doing wonders for his head at the moment.

He listened only half-heartedly as the debriefing gnomes informed him of the mission's results, how the enemy had made off with Frond knows how much money, stopping every so often to scratch their tremendous rear ends. The gnomes, that was, not the humans.

No, what really interested Trouble was the promise of a shipment of those fairy-killer bullets, having now been clinically dubbed Void Rounds. Their exact make was unknown, as fairy analysts were still examining the round that Holly had held on to. That would take several days, and even then, it would take weeks more to come up with a countermeasure, if any was available at all. That was time they simply did not have. What the analysts could tell them so far was that these rounds were expensive to manufacture. _Really_ expensive. Who had access to that kind of cash?

Their best shot would be to take out that shipment leaving Helsinki in less than a day. That would damage the enemy's supply line, perhaps permanently. It might just tip the scales in their favor. The Council had yet to approve the plan, but Trouble had already taken the precaution of deploying a Recon team to scout things out. From their reports, _The Kraken_ was a standard-issue cargo ship, which could easily be seen by the shipment containers stacked atop the deck. Somewhere on board, there were, or would be in almost a day's time, those Void Rounds.

He'd also ordered a shuttle and a crack Retrieval team to be running hot in case the mission was green-lighted. He'd already hand-picked those who would go with him in his proposal to the Council: Captain Short, if she felt up to it, that man-mountain, Butler, and the Fowl boy, as well as several other commandos. They'd be packing heavy weapons. No chances this time.

Besides, he'd really feel embarrassed if Fowl had to pull his sorry butt out of the flames again.

The truculent gnome, whose ill­-tempered nature was typical of any of his Family, had just been reviewing the overall cost of the mission in taxpayer gold (figures that Trouble didn't give a dwarf's fart about anyway), when a runner from Council bolted into the room, followed closely by Captain Short and Fowl.

The courier doubled over, panting, for several moments, before intoning, as he read from an official scroll, "The mission proposal to secure threat to the People's security has been approved. No budget limit placed. Top­-priority status granted—"

"Good." Kelp was on his feet in seconds, and immediately regretted it as a fierce pain seared through his head. Several aides ran to assist him, but Trouble shook them away, falling shakily back into his seat. "When do we leave?" he asked, clutching his skull.

The messenger glanced unsurely at Artemis, who had just been joined by a very irritated Butler, having just managed to convince the security fairies he wasn't a troll. With a nervous swallow, he went on. "Captain Holly Short from the previous mission has been approved, and the human Artemis Fowl and his troll—err, I mean, assistant, are also cleared, under the condition that they be supervised by other LEP personnel."

Kelp caught the unspoken statement. "Wait a second, I've been _grounded_?"

The runner swallowed nervously, now regarding the commander with a look of terror that rivalled the one Butler merited. "Um… well… You see—"

Trouble's deadpan stare shut him up fast.

After a moment's palpable silence, Kelp sighed in resignation, turning to face Holly. She stood there, looking faintly ridiculous in a medical gown. Apparently she'd just left the hospital. Trouble admired that kind of dedication. He paid no further attention to the dispatcher, who took this as a chance to flee, and did so with as much dignity as he could afford.

As the messenger busied himself making tracks, Commander Kelp nodded with respect to the captain. "Holly, you're my best officer."

This point-blank statement brought about a flush of embarrassment to Holly's cheeks, as well as the uncomfortable fidgiting of the other officers. But Kelp was oblivious to their discomfort. He went on. "I won't lie, Commander Root knew what he was doing when he handpicked you. You've been with me on the Munich job, and you know what we're up against better than anyone here. That's why I'm assigning you as field commander for this mission."

This was met with the same attitude a smelly, loudmouthed dwarf with spelltropy would be welcomed at a high-society pixie soiree. Immediately, Trouble was bombarded by indignant cries from his majors, secretaries, and advisors, as well as his brother, but that was for a whole different reason.

He'd just managed to shout down their protests of '_But sir!_', '_I feel that I am more qualified for the job._', and '_Mommy said,_' when Holly piped up. Her voice was a note higher than normal as she almost baked under the collective heat from her co-workers' glares. "Sir," she began, "I don't think I'm capable. I'm just a captain, and my record is far from clean. I must protest—"

"No, Holly. I've picked you, and that's that. You understand what the enemy is smuggling, at least better than the rest of us. That makes you an expert. Now, will my analysts please shower me with the information the good captain will be needing, or are you too busy planning to spike my dinner?"

Two tactical strategists glanced down shamefacedly, both obviously sharing a mutual dislike for Holly's praise by the commander. "No, sir," muttered one, a rather sour-faced gnome, who then continued, "We've got reports back from the Recon team we dispatched. Looks like _The Kraken_ will be departing just when the thug said it would. None of the shipments delivered today look like they could be containing the contraband, but we can't know for sure. We recommend that the Retrieval team set down _here_." His pudgy finger jabbed at a holographic display of the cargo vessel, gesturing at a small deck dozens of feet below the main one that afforded them a discrete point of entry, at least according to builder specifications they'd aquired from an engineer who worked on the ship. He probably would be waking up any time now with a splitting headache and three hundred euros for his trouble.

"You can make your way up the ventilation system to the engine room, where you can rig some explosives to take out the engines. Nice and neat. No mess, no crispy Mud Men. Wait," he mused to himself, casting a snide glance at Artemis and Butler. "That is a bad thing, right?"

Holly busied herself giving the smart-aleck a sore pointed ear, then returned her attention to the readout.

Artemis's train of thought, however, was interrupted by Holly's actions. He felt a strange feeling swell up inside his chest at the sight of her defending her human friends, but it ran deeper than friendly affection. The way her face set itself in grim determination, framed by her soft, albeit rather miskempt, hair, stirred something deep inside him.

Mentally shaking himself, he focused on the task at hand. As Artemis spoke, his soft, clipped accent overpowered the traditional passion of Gnommish, which only served to undermine his attempt to endear himself to his fairy allies. "Butler will be able to blend in most effectively. We could supply him with some worker's attire, so he'll be able to move about freely. I trust Foaly can forge adequate authorization papers?"

Holly nodded, eyes fixed on the scale model as it rotated to display all visual angles. "He can, just don't let him find out you doubted his precious printers for a second. Now, if Butler can give us some eyes abovedecks, we'll be able to coordinate our attack better."

Grub, whose recent success on the Munich job had earned him the right to participate in this mission, although grudgingly, piped up. "Why would we need him to do that? We could just shield, set our Neutrinos to _well done_, and take them out ourselves." He nodded enthusiastically, head bobbing comically in his Retrieval helmet. But his self-confidence quickly evaporated as Artemis pointed out the plan's flaws.

"Corporal," he began, rubbing his temples, "We cannot simply incapacitate the crew, it would be far too conspicuous. An explosion in the fuel chambers can be explained away. An unconscious crew can't. Besides, we're not sure which ones work for the opposition. _The Kraken_ seems to be the staging area for whatever it is the enemy has planned for us. It will be well defended and well supplied. They may even be able to see through your shielding. No, we'll have to resort to stealth, and cripple the ship. That should buy Holly and I enough time to make our way to the bridge." His pale hand extended from beneath the sleeve of his by-now tattered suit, which none of the fairies had seemed concerned enough to replace, gesturing at the command structure, situated at the stern of the ship. "That's where the shipment records are sure to be kept, and we'll find our Void Rounds soon enough. It won't be advertised, but I think I can spot a counterfeit data entry when I see it."

Artemis turned to Holly and Kelp, asking, "Before we even attempt this, however, shouldn't we know who we're up against? I hope that Butler's audio recording has served to bring up a few suspects?"

No response.

"Ah. Well, in that case, we'll have to assume that whoever is manning the bridge must be part of the enemy's team. If they have the resources to subtlely insert themselves into the crew, they'll be sure to have secured command of the ship. Which would mean either the captain, or one of his close advisors, is the target."

Brushing a lock of hair from her face, Holly nodded in understanding. Artemis had to force himself to focus upon what she was saying, rather than the way she looked saying it. Most unlike him. Honestly, if he didn't find a cure for this blasted ailment, it would be the end of him. "We'll have to bring the entire bridge crew into custody. The _mesmer_ ought to have them talking before the day's out. We'll learn the names of the fairy backers, and bring them down. There might even be a few of them on board."

Commander Kelp shut his eyes, resting his head on his palm for a moment. When he had regained some strength, he muttered, "The fairies you find will have to be tried before the Council. It won't be easy to cover up, and we can't afford to let the People find out about this. Enough leaked out after Koboi vanished. Another scandal will ruin us."

The commander cast a tired glance about the packed briefing room, squinting in the harsh light of the overhead glow-strips. This was it. This mission would mean the difference between a sure defeat at the hands of this faceless enemy, or a chance to strike back. Take the offensive.

"We're finished, people." Already, the gnomes and nonessentials filed out. "Get geared up, Holly, if you're sure you can handle it. I won't lie, you were pretty beat up back there."

She smiled humbly, noting, "I'll be fine, Commander. Besides, I've got Butler here to help." Holly playfully punched the tremendous Eurasian on the shoulder, and for a brief instant Butler seemed to contemplate returning the friendly gesture, but thought better of it.

Artemis's forehead creased in concern, demonstrating the premature care that weighed him down. Holly and Butler both saw it, but before either could offer help, Artemis rose and strode from the room. He couldn't go far, he knew it. The restrictions placed upon him didn't allow him to leave the complex until the mission began. Still, a walk might do him good.

As he shut the door behind him, he noted with curiosity the lively activity in the main office of the LEP, the hectic disarray similar to the average human police station. Communicators beeped urgently, alerting officers to situations above and belowground. Picking his way through the crowd, Artemis was painfully aware of the many eyes fixed on him, took notice of the subtle way officers fingered their handguns in his presence. It seemed he never would be trusted by the People. Never fully, at least.

But that didn't bother him too much. He was just shaken up after the whole Munich affair. Holly never really had been in too much danger, but the sight of her so weak, defenseless, the feel of her heartbeat as he worked to staunch the heavy bleeding, had cost him much.

All of this preoccupied him as he made his way down a less-traveled corridor, making for nowhere in particular.

He'd recover, he knew that much. He was Artemis Fowl, and that meant he could do anything. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he about-faced just in time to see Foaly exit a nondescript cubicle. Artemis didn't want to think about how the centaur managed to fit in a stall. The Irish youth was visited by a fleeting image of Foaly stabled in an office enclosure, eating from a feed bag of carrots and the like. The corners of his thin mouth upturned slightly, and he called out to the centaur.

"Foaly!"

The inventor glanced over his flank at Artemis, and nodded mildly. His face broke in a wiseacre grin. "Mud Boy! I hear you did pretty good up there. The doctors tell me Holly's fine, but I'm not so sure."

Artemis's stomach plummeted. "Why? They performed a full physical. Nothing showed up." He fought to keep overwhelming concern from his voice.

The centaur's face darkened. "It's not that. I think she needs a psychiatrist. Or a complete brain scan."

The Irish boy's curiosity was peaked. "Why is that, Foaly?" He considered himself adept at brain anatomy, and the preliminary scans of Holly's skull hadn't turned up anything.

"Because," Foaly began dramatically, shoulders sagging, "I think she's suffered brain damage."

Artemis was confused. That made no sense. The scan would have turned something like that up—

"She'd have to to fall in love with a Mud Boy." Immediately Foaly's face lit up with a sick joy, and his humanoid torso doubled over as he cackled madly.

Artemis resisted the urge to slug him, although he doubted he possessed the necessary physique to even give the centaur pause. Reduced to fragmented suttering by his humiliation, something that was unheard of by Artemis, he muttered, blood rushing to his cheeks, "You- I- She-"

Foaly's laughter intensified. "The eloquent Fowl, found without a witty comeback?" He snorted, a sound not unlike a horse's. "And you were actually concerned, weren't you?" Here his face fell slightly, and his brow creased. Foaly glanced down at Artemis, as if seeing him for the first time.

"You know something, Fowl?" Artemis braced himself for another scathing remark. "You're alright."

For the second time that day, Artemis didn't have a response.


	12. Chapter 12: Screaming Viking

**Author's Note:** I'm back! I'm SO sorry for keeping you all waiting, but summer got me distracted, and school's been keeping me very busy. I promise it won't happen again! I'll be updating The Dawn Breaker every Sunday now, so keep reading!

-Jack

Haven City, LEP Headquarters, Mission Control Room, Twelve Hours Later

Sleep. That was what he needed. Five hours of blissful, uninterrupted peace. Of course, he'd tried time and again, but there was simply too much to do. Already the Mission Control Room was alive with activity, as operator fairies ran to their stations, transmitting coordinates and information to the aboveground agents, and as technicians ran test runs on their noisy machinery, all the while the same recording playing over and over again. Gray's recording.

Artemis had heard the blasted thing for the umpteenth time now, and it still had proved completely unenlightening. That was his job. Listen to and deciper any hidden meanings in the transmission. They already knew about the Void Rounds and the shipment leaving Helsinki, but that was about as far as it got. Everything else strayed into the fields of wild speculation.

The Irish youth had managed to gather a few things during his otherwise futile efforts. The enemy's leader, whoever he was, or she, if she happened to be using a voice distortion device, planned to use these rounds to combat the fairies in order to get at the _humans_. Whoever this was, they obviously held a grudge against mankind, so a fairy was currently the top suspect. That narrowed down the search by approximately six billion beings, but that still left tens of thousands of fairies, all of them with a score to settle with men.

Artemis couldn't figure out much else, except that strange bit towards the end. The mercenary general had asked how he would recognize the intruders, whom the faceless mastermind was already aware of, and his employer had simply responded via movement from the message's other end. It could have been anything. He might have held up a picture, or used sign language.

At least, that was the analysis of the fairy examiner, but Artemis had little faith in Doctor Argon, having so easily been duped by the Irish teenager during the Fowl Siege, and again when Opal had sprung herself from his 'secure' facility.

No, what interested Artemis was the fact that Grey had responded with incredulity. He'd been stunned by the response, as if the employer had made a revelation of some kind. Again, the analysts assumed the enemy spoke of Butler, which would explain away quite a bit, but once more, Artemis begged to differ. Grey had been surprised to see Butler when he left the room. If he'd been briefed of his presence already, then he wouldn't have been caught unawares.

Gray had said, "But— Why, that's incredible! You have—"

_Have what?_ Artemis thought to himself, replaying the audio track once again. But further examination disclosed no new information, and Artemis was completely dumbstruck by Gray's cryptic reaction. Just who was this mastermind?

Damien Gray had taken that secret with him to oblivion. He'd expressed disbelief when meeting Butler again, true, but… Wait. The lobby! Gray had reacted quite strangely in the lobby when he saw Holly.

Yes! That made sense! The faceless mastermind had expressed a strange interest in Holly, but why completely eluded Artemis. The brains behind the operation had even inquired about her health! Why would he care what happened to an LEP captain?

But Artemis didn't have enough time to worry about that, because at that moment Butler interrupted his thoughts, planting himself in a seat beside his young charge, realizing a moment too late the error of his ways. The tremendous bodyguard offered a humble apology as the LEP janitor began to sweep away the chair's shattered remains.

"Are we ready, Butler?"

A nod. "Holly and the rest of the team have assembled in the shuttle bay. We're to join them in ten minutes. Better get a move on, eh?"

Muttering in agreement, Artemis discarded the headphones, resigned to his failure with the machine. Whoever this mystery caller was, he'd have to reveal himself if Artemis ever wanted to find out his identity.

A blacked-out bus transported them through the heart of Haven, cutting past traffic using an LEP siren, allowing them to arrive at their destination just in time. Clambering down the steps, Artemis strode onto the tarmac, the whine of shuttle engines echoing throughout the almost completely deserted chamber. Only a small team stood by the primed transport, Holly at its head. Artemis drew close in time to hear the last words of her briefing.

"We'll be making our attack on the freighter at 2300 hours. Team A, work on destroying that engine. Butler will back you up. Team B, you'll be going with Fowl and me. We're going to take the bridge."

This was met with an enthusiastic cry of "Oo-rah!" from the commandos assigned to their team, and a feeble whimper from Grub. Appartently Holly wanted to keep a close eye on him. That, or she didn't want him within a mile of the explosives Team A would be handling.

"That's it! Load up!"

As the rest of them bowed their heads against the wind generated by the roar of the shuttle, Holly turned to see Butler and Artemis approach. "Late, as usual, Mud Boys."

"Good to see you too, Captain." Butler smiled warmly, glancing in admiration about the cavernous launch chamber. "I see we've got the airport to ourselves," he joked gently.

"Good. I hate baggage checks." Artemis caught himself by surprise with his jest, but Holly merely chuckled. Most unlike both of them.

Following in Butler's wake as he lumbered up the loading ramp, which groaned loud enough to be heard above the engines, Holly stopped Artemis. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Artemis? Will you be able to handle yourself up there?"

There was genuine concern in her voice, and it touched Artemis deeply. Clasping a hand on her shoulder, a gesture Holly blushed at, although she turned away so that he wouldn't see, Artemis whispered, "Ah, Captain, but I think it was I who saved you last time." And, feeling particularly bold, he chanced a light kiss upon her cheek, and her entire frame stiffened, though not out of anger. Drawing away, Artemis boarded the shuttle, a wide grin on his face.

Holly remained out on the runway for a moment, in shock, before her expression flushed deeply. "Oh yeah?" she called into the hatch as she made after him, voice full of false confidence. "We'll just see about that!"

Entering the shuttle, Holly strapped herself into the pilot's seat, which she had expressly reserved for herself. Her co-pilot glanced at her momentarily, remarking, "Are you alright, Captain? Your face seems a little red."

Holly quickly averted her eyes from Artemis, whom she had been staring at in the troop bay, before replying, her face achieving a shade of crimson that would have made Root proud. "It's just the light off these D'Arviting displays. Come on, Corporal. Let's fly this bird." She still took a moment to don her helmet and power up her visor.

*****

Helsinki, Finland, over the Gulf of Finland

The shuttle rocked dangerously as it set down, struggling to avoid kicking up any snow on landing. Even though their hull was shielded, it would be a dead giveaway to have their footprint stuck in the Finnish countryside. Atop a scenic hill, the shuttle afforded Holly a panoramic view of Helsinki harbor from her cockpit window. The ocean appeared black in the dim light of the moon, and she knew from experience how cold that water could get. She didn't want to go swimming out there tonight. Fairies hated cold.

The lights of the city reflected off the ocean's surface, as the surf crashed against the shore with only a halfhearted effort. The sounds of the humans below could be heard, mainly in the form of traffic along the highway winding around their landing site. In the distance, even now, workers toiled on the shipping platforms, working to load and unload the massive freighters that had pulled in for the night. Somewhere out there was their shipment. Good luck finding it, of course.

In the troop bay, the LEP Retrieval team began to stir, extracting their weaponry from their overhead storage racks while Artemis and Butler rose from their seats, making for the cockpit. Leaning over Holly's shoulder, Artemis caught sight of it. There, on the northern end of the harbor, _The Kraken_ was moored. It was a monstrous ship, easily a mile long, its deck some three hundred feet above the surface of the icy water below. That was their priority.

But Holly could only think about the deep blue of his eye as it gazed onward, and instead of focusing on what Butler said about their entrance, she could only admire Artemis's eyes. It occurred to her a moment later that they were _her_ eyes as well. Always a part of each other. Somehow that comforted her deeply.

She mentally shook herself, ripping her gaze away from Artemis a little too quickly. He glanced at her, concerned. "Something wrong, Captain?"

_Yes. Me,_ she thought to herself, but only said, "Nothing, Fowl. Just get your rear in gear and let's get off this hulk. We've got a ship to raid."

Nodding professionally, Butler rose, smacking his skull on the low ceiling with a beautiful _whump!_ After employing a few choice swear words, he regained his composure, checking to make sure his Sig Sauer was snugly pocketed in its shoulder holster. Safety off.

Butler readied himself by the deployment hatch, body tense and ready to draw his weapon if anything should happen, but after almost a minute of staring down the door, he realized it wouldn't be opening.

"Are we clear, or what?"

In mild irritation, he turned about, and saw what Holly held out to him in smug silence.

"_No_. Absolutely not." But he had little other choice.

*****

Helsinki Harbor, Quayside, Twenty Minutes Later

Butler made his way along the quayside, marching through crowds of dockhands, shrugging his way past them and generally avoiding their incredulous stares. He was used to this sort of thing, of course, but for different reasons. Because today it wasn't his monstrous form that had the general population intrigued, but what he wore on it. A traditional Finnish wide-brimmed hat had been perched atop his huge skull, disproportionate with his head, while he wore decorative overalls, complete with a white dress shirt beneath. Over all this he wore a large fur coat, (synthetic, of course, since it was fairy-made) and a pair of heavy wooden clogs to shelter his feet. Butler never was much of a history buff, but he was pretty sure that wooden shoes didn't belong to Finland, and he received painfully humiliating reminders with every step he took. All-in-all, the dockhands had plenty of reason to stare, as the mammoth of a man strolled by in his mismatched, outdated outfit, _clip-clopping_ away. Butler wondered, not for the first time, if the faries had merely been lax on their cultural research, or this was all part of an insidious scheme to torture him. Thank god Juliet had had her mind wiped. He didn't think he could stand his little sister catching an eyefull of him now. She was the only person over or under the world who could laugh at him and get away with it…

Just as one particularly impertinent worker discovered when he snickered at the sight of the long white feather stuck in the Eurasian's cap, but he didn't even have enough time to wipe the smirk from his face before he landed headfirst in the harbor.

The rest of them gave him a wide berth after that, allowing him to make for his target: a small tavern by the water's edge, sitting almost in the shadow of _The Kraken_. It was a traditional, comely building, smoke merrily spouting from its stone chimney, as the windows were lit from within by a warm, cheery light. Sounds of laughter could be heard, even as Butler drew near. Making his way up the tulip-lined path, he noted several drunken sailors tottering about or lying on the walkway. This was the place.

Ducking his head so as to not ruffle the plume in his hat, Butler entered the pub. Feeling utterly ridiculous, he cast his eyes about the place professionally nonetheless, before spotting the bartender. Approaching the portly man, somewhere in his middle age, Butler pressed several euros into the proprietor's pudgy hand, muttering in broken Finnish, "I need to see Karri Niiranen, shipyard director."

Nodding in silent understanding, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at a group of roaring men in the corner, participating in some form of debauchery involving two contestants and several tankards of ale. Butler could tell who the leader was, a large man with a full red beard and a tweed cap, a rain slicker draped over his shoulders.

Still feeling distinctly foolish, he wound his way through the crowded drinking-hall, and this time the laughter was unavoidable. Mr. Niiranen was well aware of his approach long before he could see Butler, his great feather bobbing above everyone's head, marking his position in the throng.

Finally arriving before the party, Butler stood erect and did his best to sound intimidating. No mean feat considering his unwilling choice of clothing. "I have come for work," he stated simply, tossing Karri an identification tag. It stated simply that his name was Franz Holdt, shipyard worker from Copenhagen.

Niiranen didn't even bother to give it a second glance. "There will be no work today. I am busy." His fellows cackled drunkenly at this, but Butler would not be dissuaded.

"I need to work on _The Kraken_. The pay is good, and I need the money."

"Eh, come back tomorrow. Or the day after. Yes, the day after. I suspect I will be _busy_ tomorrow, too." More laughter.

Mouth compressing from its usual state of professional calm to a grim slash, the manservant replied, "No, you will give me the job _tonight_. I need work."

His insolence wasn't well-received. Rising from their seats, two of Karri's strongmen made to intimidate Butler, but were halted by their employer. It was for the best. Butler wouldn't have felt good about thrashing intoxicated opponents. He had enough advantage already.

"Why should I hire you?" Now Karri was interested. Something about this strange foreigner intrigued him. Maybe it was his stubborness. Maybe it was his hat. "I have more then enough men already, and I am personally working on _The Kraken._ I don't need you. My men are twice as strong as you."

"Then how about a way to prove it? Say, your best man against me. Winner keeps his job."

This earned him a rousing chorus of chuckles from the throng, but Niiranen seemed to consider it. After a moment, he replied. "Very well. Joel," he called to a particularly burly chap on his right, "You said you wanted a pay raise. Beat this fellow, and you've got it. Same rules as always. It's time for the Challenge!" This was met with general excitement, as all other sailors took up the chant.

Butler nodded, rolling up his sleeves as his opponent rose from his chair. He wasn't a particularly imposing figure, but the Eurasian bodyguard had always learned to never underestimate a foe. Artemis had taught too many people that lesson.

"So we'll be doing this how?" He practiced his fighting stance, raising another round of giggling from the tipsy onlookers, and Karri answered.

"One on one, last man on his feet wins. Other than that, just try to avoid falling on anyone when Joel here beats you."

_Right. Let's see Joel match up against a Blue Diamond._

But even as Joel strode in front of Butler, a pair of pub workers set down a table between them, as an enticed crowd gathered around. Apparently this wasn't the first time the Challenge had taken place. Perplexed, Butler's confusion was only added to as Joel merely sat before him expectantly.

"What the—"

That was when the bartender slammed down two frothy tankards of beer before them, announcing to the viewers, "First glass! Round one! Contestants, drink your Screaming Vikings!"

Thunderstruck, Butler could only stare, jaw agape, as Joel downed the first serving without a moment's pause. Wiping the suds from the corner of his mouth, he prompted, "Come on, outlander. Don't tell me you've never seen a Screaming Viking!"

All he could do was quietly lower himself onto his stool, as an icy mug slid his way. He considered it at arm's length for the moment, before sipping tentatively. Liquid fire seemed to rush down his throught, and he choked, almost dropping his flagon. Panting heavily, he thought to himself, as a bystander clapped him on the shoulder, _Artemis had better appreciate this._


	13. Chapter 13: Infiltration

Helsinki Harbor, LEP shuttle, One Hour Later

Time was running out. Within the hour _The Kraken_ would be drawing anchor, and setting sail for Frond knows where. Holly quietly cursed under her breath, feelings of aggravation and hopelessness overwhelming her, but confusion above all. Not all of these emotions were about the mission.

That blasted Mud Boy. She'd make him pay for… For what? What was his crime? For once in his miserable existence, Artemis Fowl was innocent. He had done nothing wrong, except stolen her heart.

_Ugh! What is this, some cheesy romance novel?_ Holly thought, disgusted with herself. Stolen her heart. Honestly! She _really_ needed a vacation. Just some time to herself. A while away from _him_.

But that wasn't in the cards for her today. She had a mission to complete, and again, time was of the essence. Artemis and the rest of the strike team were ready to go, but they had, as of yet, received no signal from Butler whether he was on board, or if he even had gotten the job. Several of the assembled elves and sprites moved about the cramped cabin restlessly, eager to get to work.

But they couldn't rush the job. Once that ship set sail, ideally with them on it, they wouldn't be able to call for help. Attempts by some of the Recon team to fly too close had resulted in their transmitting equipment going haywire, unable to make contact with anyone more than fifty feet belowground. Holly took that as an ominous sign. Someone knew they were on to them, and they weren't taking any chances.

Still, Holly had to bite back the urge to simply fly on out there and wing it, no pun intended, because such a foolish plan would only get her and everyone under her command killed.

_Under my command? Am I really ready for this?_ She wasn't sure. All the years of her training seemed to count for nothing now. For all the world, she was just a cadet again, helpless and unsure. The position of command was one she had never desired, but it was hers now. Best not to screw things up.

Artemis, on the other hand, remained absolutely calm, casually examining his fingernails for grime everyone knew wasn't there. Honestly, one of these days she'd just love to wipe that smug look of his face…

But as time went by, even Artemis's faith in Butler seemed to falter, as he said, "Time's up. Butler's in trouble. I suggest we look in to it. Captain, do we have a fix on his location?"

Holly nodded, checking her Heads Up Display as she pulled on her helmet. "He's two miles down the harbor. His location hasn't changed for over an hour. Okay, let's move out, people." She turned to her commandos, who eagerly brandished their weapons, saluting crisply. "Team A, get yourselves airborne. Fly down to the quayside, find some cover. On our signal, board the vessel. If we don't respond in twenty minutes, or we give a no-go order, abort and make your way back to the drop zone. The shuttle will be waiting. Team B, stick with me. I'll drop off Artemis, and he'll figure out what's going on in there."

Artemis didn't hear any more once they squad switched to private COMMs. He approached Holly. "How shall I reach Butler?"

A smirk touched her lips, but he couldn't see it. "Take a guess."

Artemis fumbled when he caught the Moonbelt.

With a sigh, he clipped it on, muttering, "I really despise these contraptions."

*****

Helsinki Harbor, Quayside, Three minutes later

Artemis swung freely on the distended cord, some five meters behind Holly. _Seriously,_ he mused to himself, as yet another structure whizzed by his ear, _If she's not more careful, she'll dash me against a building!_ He struggled with himself to believe Holly was above that sort of prank.

But even as he thought this, he swerved dangerously close to a house, only to whip away at the last second. He could have sworn he heard laughter on the wind. The Irish youth spent the remainder of the trip trying to keep down his lunch (merely an expression, sadly, and he found himself longing for half an hour alone with his kitchen, with Butler cooking, of course) and wondering if he'd done anything to anger Holly recently. He certainly hoped not.

Another two minutes later Artemis noticed they were slowing down, and had begun to wonder where Holly would land, when _whump!_ His tether disconnected and he found himself sprawled out on the front lawn of a large pub. Yes, there was definitely laughter this time.

Clambering up from the devasted ruin he'd made of the tulip-border, Artemis shrugged off his camfoil sheet, tucking it safely into his breast pocket. No one saw him, he was certain, but then again, who would question a boy appearing out of thin air when they'd been spending all night in this place? With that in order, he marched into the bar.

All around, large seamen staggered drunkenly about, downing beer after beer, most of which never found its way into their mouths, while tripping over each other in their admirable endeavours to stand up straight.

_How am I going to find Butler in all of _this_?_ Artemis thought, but he didn't need to answer that question. The tracker in Butler's pocket beeped loudly in Artemis's earpiece, signalling his proximity to the bodyguard, and as he ducked through the throng, avoiding the eyes of anyone sober enough to notice his underage state, he found him.

Or rather… something that vaguely _resembled_ his lifelong companion. A great man stood atop a table, face a ruddy red and looking distinctly foolish in a traditional Finnish outfit. The crowd had all gathered to watch as he danced about, tankard in hand, singing along to a catchy folk song Artemis was sure he didn't know the half the lyrics to, as the onlookers chanted, "_Franz! Franz! Franz!_" clapping in rhythm.

A stupid grin on his face, Butler halted his dancing, and raised his glass to the roof, proclaiming in Japanese, "A toast to my faithful subjects!" Of course, no one expected anything he said to be intelligible anyway, so this slip-up went unnoticed. Swaying dangerously, Butler caused his supporters to draw back in alarm, but he appeared to right himself. Behind him sat a group of men, howling with laughter. Among them Artemis recognized Niiranen, the man Foaly said ran the shipyard.

His attention was brought suddenly back to his inebriated friend when Butler raised both hands to the sky, tankard spilling all over himself, as he made to take a bow. Everyone in the bar could see what was about to happen, and retreated once more.

"My people! My people!" Butler slurred, "I bid you _sayonara_!" With that he crashed down to the floor, raising a considerable amount of dust and causing the glasses on the bar to shake. Meteoric impacts had nothing on this.

There was a moment of reverential silence, before Niiranen rose up, stating solemnly, then with rising enthusiasm, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our _Champion!_"

"Well, have you found him?" Holly sounded impatient, her voice buzzing in his ear.

Distraught, he muttered, "I'm afraid so."

*****

**Ten Minutes Later**

Being the newly appointed Royal Majesty of the Green Dragon Inn, Butler's fallen form was afforded all of the princely symbols of his office. This consisted of him being dragged out the front door, and his large head dunked in a barrel of icy water, fresh from the harbor. There were better ways of showing one's respect, but the sentiment was there.

Artemis found himself fishing Butler out of the barrel, the latter of which coughing and sputtering all over the place, when Holly arrived. Still shielded, she whispered into his ear, teasing, "So the mighty have fallen."

Struggling to hold up Butler's torso, Artemis found that he could not, and, with as much dignity as possible allowed the manservant to drop. Panting, he replied, "Indeed. Is everyone in position?"

Holly's voice grew serious. "Affirmative, Arty. We're just waiting on you and the Champion over here."

To which Butler replied, voice still slurred, "That's _Mister_ Champion to you, dwarf!" earning him another dunk in the barrel. Artemis felt Holly could have been a bit gentler to the poor man. After a good long soak, she pulled him out, and the glazed-over look in the Eurasian's eyes vanished. Of course, it probably was the gentle jab of the Stun Baton that did the trick.

Shaking himself free of her grasp, Butler proceeded to retch for a minute or two, before rising up shakily, water coating his face. At least, Artemis thought it was water.

"Tell me," Butler moaned, "What century is it?"

"Good to have you back, Butler." Holly patted him kindly on the shoulder, still shielded, as the bodyguard replied, indignant.

"There was no need to stun me, you know. I was just starting to sober up."

Holly shrugged, but the gesture went unseen by her human friends. "There was no need to call me a dwarf, _Your Majesty_."

At this Butler groaned, memory of that night's misadventures beginning to return to him. Of course, he would never completely recall what had happened. It was for the best.

"Do you have it?" Artemis began to grow impatient as _The Kraken_ sounded its blowhorn, signalling that shove-off was less than half an hour away.

"If you mean a murderous hangover, then yes." After another few moments, Butler dug around in his pockets, extracting a laminate card. "And yes, I got the damned job."

Artemis cracked a vampire's grin. "Excellent." Rising from his kneeling position, he began to stroll casually toward the freighter, before calling over his shoulder, savoring the moment. "Well, come _on_, Butler. It's time for your first night on the job." A moan of despair. "Oh, and do clean yourself up, will you? First impressions are so terribly important."

*****

_**The Kraken**_**'s loading ramp, Ten minutes later**

Butler strolled nonchalantly up the gangway, flashing his ID to the guard by the door, who directed him to the third deck. Nodding in thanks, Butler prompty disobeyed this directive, making his way belowdecks. Immediately behind him crept Fairy Team A.

Doing his best to maintain his dignity, despite his horrendous migraine, Butler wound his way down multiple stairwells, making for the Engine Room. The halls were deserted, save for the occasional passerby, and so the only sound he could hear was the distant rumble of the engine.

That, and the chuckling of the shielded faries behind him. Foaly, upon hearing Holly's tale, had hacked into the security cameras of the _Green Dragon_ and had accessed all sixty minutes of Butler's humiliation. Apart from posting it to the fairy equivalent of YouTube under the username PonyBoy, he had also forwarded it to all of the strike team. Butler was going to have words with that horse when he got back.

Thundering down the corridor, Butler inserted a hand the size of a trash can lid into his worker's vest, extracting his Sig Sauer. Checking to make sure the clip was loaded, he primed the weapon with exaggerated care, ramming the clip home with an ominous _click_. That shut the giggling ones up faster than a tunneling dwarf. Well, almost as fast, at least.

Halting abruptly, Butler glanced down the hall, checking to make sure the coast was clear, before waving his companions forward. They buzzed by with ease, whisper-silent. His ear piece didn't detect any radio chatter directed at him, so he simply kept moving.

Another few decks down, Butler heard footsteps approaching his position. Freezing, he stowed his Sig Sauer, but kept the holster undone. Just to be safe. Slouching quite convincingly, he did his best to appear grizzled and hung-over, which of course wasn't much of a problem for him today. Removing a schematic from his belt, he held it up to the light, as if trying to figure out the location of some ship system or another. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted them.

Two figures, walking side-by-side. One wore a white silk shirt, pristine gold rings wedged onto his pudgy fingers, rambling in an overload Chicago accent. Beside him strode a short, square man, whose shaven head gleamed in the dim lighting. He waved a Cuban cigar about in one hand, methodically strolling down the corridor.

Whispering quietly, just so that his throat-mic could pick it up, Butler intoned, "Warning, we've got hostiles. I think one of them's Jon Spiro, and the other might be Britva."

Silence for a moment, as his fairy comrades conversed among themselves, before finally patching him through. "Okay, get me an eyeful of their faces. Your iris cam should tell me who they are. I'll just run it through INTERPOL."

Butler complied, ruffling his schematic and masking the action with a convincing sneeze, before stealing a good long look at both of them. There was a sharp pain in his left eye as the technie increased the magnification. Blinking furiously, Butler struggled not to groan in pain as one eye's magnified vision conflicted with the other, awakening his dormant headache.

He didn't respond immediately, but when he did it was with triumph in voice. "That's them, alright. I'll notify Captain Short."

The bodyguard nodded in reply, because the duo were far too close now even for whispering, but the gesture, seemingly to no one at all, caught Spiro's eye. The mobster halted in his tracks, motioning for Britva to do the same. With as few steps as his stubby legs could take him, jewelry jingling all the way, Spiro approached Butler. Leaning closely in, he casually appraised his face. _Damn,_ thought Butler, realizing the Chicagoan must still remember him from their encounter in London.

"Hey, don't I know you?"

Heart rate increasing rapidly, Butler could have sworn he heard the collective _click_ of half a dozen Neutrino's powering up, but that was probably just his nerves. Face unreadable, however, he replied, in a lazy German accent, "Don't know, Mister… er…" He glanced at the name tag Spiro wore on his white suit. Jack Smith. Terribly creative.

Of course, Spiro wouldn't be out of prison legally. He must have broken out. Not without help, of course, as Butler could guess by the sight of squint-eyed Britva, who also critically appraised him. He went on. "Smith. I'm just heading off to the boiler room, is all." Atrocious grammar. Artemis would have been ashamed. But it suited his purposes.

Another moment of tension, as Spiro seemed to struggle with his memory, before finally turning away. "Bah! Whatever. Try not to get in my way again, punk."

With a meek, "Yessir," Butler casually wandered on, pace quickening once the pair of crooks had vanished from sight. "That was too close," he said to no one in particular. _Why hadn't he recognized me?_

Glancing down at his wristwatch, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. It could be called clean, he supposed. By Mulch's standards, perhaps, on a very bad day. Five o'clock shadow seemed to have come on twelve hours too early, and he could have sworn he'd shaved before they set out. His eyes seemed droopy and exhausted, bags beginning to form under them. His typically bald dome had been concealed by a navy blue beanie, and on the whole, he actually appeared to be the lazy slob he needed to be. Madame Ko wouldn't have recognized him. Maybe that was for the better. If she had, he was sure she would have removed that Blue Diamond using whatever kitchen utensil was within her reach at the time.

_Dear god, I'll never drink again._


End file.
